Lin Qiu made his way toward the nearest vine.

“Leaves are opposite or in whorls of three, triangular-ovate in shape, with seven to nine veins radiating from the midrib…”

Lin Qiu compared the characteristics of the Chinese yam with the plant before him, one by one.

“Dig.”

Lang Mo suddenly stepped in front of Lin Qiu, shaking his head vigorously. “You really can’t eat it. The Itchroot Priest forbids touching it.” 

Lin Qiu: “Why?”

“You forgot…” As he spoke, he realized Lin Qiu’s brain was fried—he’d genuinely forgotten—so he had no choice but to explain it all to him.

“A long, long time ago, the first itchy roots we found were the round itchy roots. Eating those raw made your mouth go numb, but when roasted, both the cubs and the sub-beastmen loved them… At first, there were no problems, but later everyone brought back more itchy roots, including the long itchy roots. That time, several sub-beastmen died outright, and the cubs…”

“Anyway, after that, the priest decreed that we were not to touch this again.”

Lin Qiu: “Are you sure it was eating this that caused the problem?” 

Lang Mo: “It’s something the gathering teams collect all the time.” 

Lin Qiu: “Could it be that they picked the wrong one?”

Lang Mo didn’t know; this had happened many years ago, long before he was even born.

“No way. You’ll have to ask the priest before you can dig it up.” He was adamant.

Lin Qiu: “What if I dig it up first and then ask the priest?” 

Lang Mo hesitated, poking at the ground with his stick.

The soil was loose, mostly humus, and extremely fertile. Who knew how many years this yam had been growing here—its vines were as thick as a finger. Lin Qiu: “It’s settled, then.”

He walked around Lang Mo, first using the stick to loosen the layer of soft soil covering the vine. Once it was loosened, he began digging with the stick. Lang Mo moved around Lin Qiu, constantly glancing toward Wolf Mountain.

Lin Qiu: “Give me a hand.”

Lang Mo: “Let’s make one thing clear: you’re not allowed to eat it until you ask the priest!” 

Lang Qiu: “Got it.”

Yams are hard to dig up. Following the vine downward, they didn’t see the top of the yam until they were nearly a meter down. Both of their sticks had split in two, so in the end, fearing they wouldn’t make it out of the forest before dark, Lang Mo simply shifted into wolf form and dug with his claws.

The sharp claw dug out a piece as long as Lin Qiu’s finger. The pad of his paw was bigger than his own palm, and the pile of dirt behind the wolf’s hindquarters grew at a visible pace.

Lin Qiu shoveled the soil away from behind, while Lang Qiu buried his head and dug with a grunting effort.

After digging down another meter or so, Lang Mo plopped down on the ground, shook the mud off his paws, and said, “That’s good enough.” 

Lin Qiu took a look. “Not yet. There’s at least another half of it left down there.”

“How do you know? Have you ever dug before?” The wolf turned his head, sticking out his tongue like a big dog. Lin Qiu: “No, I can tell just by looking.”

Lang Mo: “Why is it so deep?”

He shifted his buttocks to stand up, spat out the mud from his mouth a couple of times, and started digging again, huffing and puffing. Lin Qiu shoveled the soil aside while warning him, “Try not to break it.”

……

At Wolf Mountain.

The weeds had been pulled from the field, and the tender seedlings looked fragile against the vast expanse of black soil.

The beastmen were worried, so they could only continue to keep watch.

Over here, all the vines from the forest had been transported back to Wolf Mountain. Led by Lang An, the tribe’s sub-beastmen had used up the batch of vines brought back by Lin Qiu. Combined with the original two, they now had a total of eight fish traps.

Lang Shi lay on the ground. Noticing that neither Lang Mo nor Lin Qiu were among the group returning with the vines, he asked. 

Lang Xi: “Mo is in the woods with Qiu, digging.”

He had gone to check; the pile of dirt was already quite high—enough to completely hide Lang Mo’s entire body in the pit.

“What’s the point of digging up dirt? It’s almost dark, and the woods aren’t safe.”

Lang Shi stood up, just as he was about to go take a look, when two filthy beastmen returned. Lin Qiu was fine—only his hands and his fur coat were dirty.

Lang Mo, on the other hand, looked as if he’d rolled around in mud; his fur was caked with it, and his color had changed. He was no longer a black wolf—he’d become a brown one. Both beastmen looked exhausted, as if they were carrying heavy poles on their backs.

When they neared Wolf Mountain, Lang Mo flopped down on the ground. Lin Qiu, carrying his basket of fruit and some yams, shifted his position and sat down first to rest.

“Where have you two been?” Lang Shi and Lang Xi approached, their eyes falling on the wooden sticks. “What are these?”

Lang Zhao hooked his claw at it, and white sap immediately oozed out. Lang Xi flicked his claw and quickly wiped it on the ground.

“Itch root?”

“Why are you digging this up? If the priest finds out, you’ll be in trouble.”

Lang Shi fiddled with it, intending to toss it aside.

Lin Qiu immediately said, “Wait! We worked hard to dig this up.” 

Lang Shi: “Qiu, are you planning to eat this?”

Lin Qiu: “I have a use for it. I’ll ask the priest first.”

Only then did Lang Shi release his grip. Finding Lang Mo covered in dirt, he turned away and lay down a short distance away. The campfire blazed, and the night sky was clear, with stars spreading across the entire heavens overhead.

Lang Mo was so exhausted he collapsed onto the ground, and before long, he was snoring softly. His front paws twitched occasionally, his muddy claws clutching at the grass.

Lin Qiu watched from afar as Lang Yan led the expedition party back, with a massive curved horn beast at the center of the group.

The beastmen in the tribe had clearly spotted it as well and were cheering when suddenly two of them broke ranks, carrying an unconscious beastman on their shoulders as they rushed toward the priest’s cave.

The beastmen’s cheers suddenly fell silent, and they all stood up. Like a school of fish under attack, they looked somewhat flustered.

“King, what’s wrong with Lang You?”

Lang Yan swept his gaze over his tribe. Spotting Lin Qiu sitting at the back of the beastmen, covered in mud, his eyes paused for a moment before he looked away.

“He was gored by a curved horn beast while we were hunting it.” 

“Tend to the game first. I’ll go take a look.”

The beastmen looked toward the cave with concern, but some immediately set to work following Lang Yan’s orders.

The beastmen skillfully butchered the prey. The curved horn beast looked even larger than the one from the last hunt, yet not a single face in the tribe showed a smile. By the campfire, everyone was silent.

Lang An continued to lead a group of beastmen in stripping the vines of their bark, while Lang Shi oversaw the butchering of the game. The members of the hunting and gathering teams had been handed over their provisions and lay on the ground resting.

Everyone’s heads were turned toward Wolf Mountain, gazing anxiously at the cave illuminated by the firelight.

Seeing this, Lin Qiu picked up some yams and fruit from the basket and quietly made his way toward the priest’s cave. Inside, the fire burned brighter than ever before.

The beastman lay flat on the wooden plank before the priest. Lang Yan stood beside the beastman, watching as the priest examined him. Lang Bing was there as well.

Lin Qiu approached on tiptoe. Lang Yan turned his head slightly; upon seeing Lin Qiu enter, he found the yam in his hand a bit cumbersome, so he casually set it aside.

The entire scene was silent; no one spoke.

Lin Qiu glanced at the beastman lying on the wooden plank.

A large bruise had appeared on his chest, and it was already swollen. The priest, looking grave, first instructed Lang Bing to pour a bowl of broth mixed with powdered medicine into the beastman’s mouth.

Then he ran his hand carefully along the beastman’s bones. After a moment, he let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank goodness, it’s not broken.”

Beastmen have excellent healing abilities; as long as the injury isn’t life-threatening, with the right medicine, it will gradually heal.

Fortunately, the Wolf Tribe was one of the largest tribes on the Beast God Continent, and the priesthood had never been interrupted. Over the years, medical knowledge had accumulated through generations, allowing them to treat both major and minor ailments.

The beastman had fainted—this injury was no minor matter.

It was possible that his internal organs had been damaged.

However, current medical practices hadn’t yet reached the point of performing open surgeries, so the priest could only administer medicine and wait, observing the beastman’s subsequent reactions. After the examination, the priest had Lang Bing gather some herbs for treating external injuries from the wooden rack, grind them into a paste, and apply it to the beastman’s chest.

He then sorted through the herbs himself, concocted a new mixture, and placed it in a clay pot to simmer. When he was done, the priest wiped his hands and looked up.

He noticed Lin Qiu had arrived at some point and was about to ask him a question when he spotted a yam as tall as a beastman sitting nearby.

“Did you guys go dig up some itch roots?”

Lin Qiu: “It’s a good thing.”

“You’ll dig up anything! Just wait until your whole body starts itching—then you’ll be in for it.” The priest said, walking over to the yam.

Recalling an incident from the past, a faint pang of pain flashed through his heart, and he sighed, “It’s no wonder you’ve forgotten about this—after all, you can’t eat itch roots.” Lin Qiu had already learned the details from Lang Mo, so he naturally knew what the old priest was referring to.

“You can eat it,” he said. “It’s delicious.”

“You ate it?!” The old priest’s drooping eyelids snapped open wide, and he tapped his wooden staff a few times, as if to inspect Lin Qiu.

Lin Qiu: “No, I’ve eaten them before.”

Lang Yan looked at Lin Qiu’s profile and said in a slightly lowered voice, “Don’t eat just anything.”

Lin Qiu: “I heard about that from Lang Mo. I’m certain this is edible—and tasty, too. But the round itchy root is a bit more dangerous.”

This incident occurred when the old priest was still young. At that time, the previous priest had recently passed away, and he hadn’t yet mastered all the knowledge the late priest had left behind. The beastmen were starving; unable to find game, they scoured the area for plants to eat.

The Itch Root was a food source the tribe had discovered while the previous High Priest was still alive. But before eating it each time, they had to show it to him first.

After the current Elder Priest took office, the beastmen brought back a large quantity of itch roots and presented them to him as well. Before he could even identify them, the beastmen couldn’t wait and roasted some to eat.

That time, more than a dozen beastmen died, and nearly all the young ones who had just transformed into human form perished. That was the greatest regret of the old priest’s life.

From then on, he simply banned all beastmen from digging up itch roots. He didn’t dare touch the thing himself either. He closed his eyes and suppressed the deep sorrow in his heart.

“Don’t eat it.”

Lin Qiu: “It’s edible.”

The priest opened his eyes, his gaze a deep crimson. He said sternly, “Lang Qiu, I said you are not allowed to eat it.”

Lin Qiu’s gaze remained calm. “Priest, have you ever considered that the problem might not lie with this? Back then, so many different varieties of itch roots were mixed together—who knows if one of them was the source of the issue?”

“All the beastmen ate it back then. Why did some die while others are still alive and well? Are you absolutely certain they all ate the exact same thing?”

The old priest replied, “Then none of us should eat it.” Lin Qiu’s heart sank.

“This stuff is everywhere in the woods. If it’s edible, we could at least stockpile enough food to feed the beastmen for several months.”

Lang Yan grabbed Lin Qiu’s wrist and said to the priest, “I’ll talk to him.”

He led Lin Qiu away, taking the yam with him as he went.