Toward evening the next day, Lin Qiu received exactly what he’d been hoping for.

A piece of meat with the skin still on, a mix of lean and fatty, weighing about a pound. The meat was fresh; it was still warm to the touch, suggesting it had been killed just moments ago. He also had fire.

There were traces of a fire in the cave. Lin Qiu dug out some stones from under the grass nest and built a makeshift stove at the original fire pit. After finishing, Lin Qiu glanced at the head perched at the top of the cave entrance.

“Could you find me a flat, thin slab of stone? Preferably one that’s been washed clean.”

Lang Mo：“……”

Who exactly is the one being punished here?

Once the stone slab was heated, Lin Qiu first cut off the meat’s skin.

The skin was pitch black; it would need to be taken to the river and scraped clean with a scraper while washing it. Lin Qiu didn’t have the means to do that, so he could only leave it as is for now. Lang Mo watched him, thinking he wasn’t going to eat it.

“If you won’t eat the meat, I will.”

Since the man had helped him out, Lin Qiu gave him the pork rind. Before long, he heard the sound of chewing coming from outside. The man’s teeth were remarkably sharp; he slurped as he ate, as if he were savoring some rare delicacy.

With no cutting board and a stone knife that wasn’t particularly sharp, Lin Qiu could only slice the meat into rough chunks. About a knuckle thick, with a good balance of fat and lean, he laid them flat on the stone slab.

After cutting about half of it, he wrapped the remaining half back in the leaves.

The meat on the stone slab began to sizzle as fat rendered out, so he added some of the fresh grass on top.

He was a bit clumsy at first—either the fire was too high, or it was dying out—and the meat around the edge of the stone slab had a slightly burnt taste.

As it cooked longer, the greasy slices in the center curled up; the fat turned translucent, releasing oil and slowly thinning out. The lean meat took on a toasty aroma, and even the pile of bitter grass took on a new flavor under the influence of the fat.

Lang Mo, the wolf waiting outside, twitched its nose, its toes wedged in a crevice between the stones, and it craned its head in surprise, peering inside. What a delicious smell!

He took a deep sniff. Lin Qiu heard it, but didn’t offer an invitation. He only had this one piece of meat; if he gave it away, it would be gone.

Lin Qiu pretended not to see the beastman at the cave entrance, who seemed ready to crawl inside. He snapped off two thin twigs to use as chopsticks and first tasted the tender, cooked greens. The bitterness had faded, giving way to a hint of sweetness. Though there was no salt, the greens themselves were tender, and their natural fragrance was enough.

Lin Qiu pursed his pale, dry lips slightly, then turned to pick up a slice of meat.

With a gentle bite, there was a faint crackling sound. Crisp on the outside and tender on the inside, the thick slices had been cooked long enough to avoid any greasiness. The sound of someone slurping at the cave entrance grew louder, so Lin Qiu silently picked up the pace.

The flavor of the meat pan-fried on the stone slab was several times better than the charred chunks from before, but without salt, it still lacked a bit of depth.

The stewed meat they brought had a salty taste—sometimes too salty, sometimes not salty enough—which suggested that the tribe still had a decent supply of salt. When Lin Qiu heard that Lang Mo was leaving, he asked, “Could you bring some salt tomorrow?”

Lang Mo stared at him.

Lin Qiu: “It doesn’t taste good without salt.”

Lang Mo was so hungry he could barely swallow his saliva; he didn’t want to deal with him and ran off in a hurry. He wanted to go back and eat his meat.

But when he finally got his hands on his own piece of meat and took a bite, it tasted bitter—nothing like the flavor of Lin Qiu’s roasted meat.

His companion, seeing his bitter expression, reached out to snatch it away. “If you won’t eat it, I will.”

Lang Mo turned his back on them and devoured it in a few bites. Finally, he licked the crumbs off his hands. Seeing his companion’s disappointed expression, he silently longed for the grilled meat Lin Qiu had made.

But speaking of salt, Lang Mo hesitated for a moment, then approached the Wolf King again.

Lang Yan was exhausted; tracking the prey had taken nearly half the day, and they hadn’t returned until after dark. His voice was hoarse: “What does he want now?” 

Lang Mo: “Salt.”

Salt was a vital resource for the tribe. Although they had easier access to it than other tribes, it was still precious.

Lang Yan didn’t say whether he would give it or not.

After the winter season, the game hadn’t migrated back yet, and that was when food was most scarce. It was during this time that Lang Qiu had colluded with the beastmen to steal the tribe’s food; he’d been caught and sent here later.

Although it wasn’t stolen from their own tribe, it was a branch tribe that had split off fifteen years ago under the decision of his father, the Old Wolf King, and the Old Priest. Lang Qiu was a beastman from that branch tribe.

There used to be too many beastmen in the tribe. Now, with food in severe short supply, one place cannot sustain so many beastmen, which is why this was done.

Although they had split into two tribes, the two sides had not lost contact. Whenever something happened over there, they would still come to seek them out, especially since there was only one priest in the tribe; neither side could do without him.

Lang Qiu needed to be punished first, and then the priest would instruct him. As the Wolf King, he also bore the responsibility of guiding them.

However, he was too busy; merely ensuring the beasts had meat to eat left him exhausted. He hadn’t had the energy to check on the other side in so long, so he’d kept beastmen stationed there to watch over it.

Lang Yan took the opportunity to ask a few questions about the situation over there. Upon hearing of Lang Qiu’s completely contradictory behavior, his wolf ears gradually perked up.

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Early the next morning, just as dawn broke, a crescent moon still hung in the sky.

It was the coldest time of the day. Nestled in a pile of grass, Lin Qiu slept fitfully, vaguely sensing a gaze upon him. He lifted his eyelids and glanced toward the cave entrance—it seemed as though a ghostly shadow was there.

His hair stood on end, and he sat up with a start.

The interior of the cave was dim, and the face of the beastman standing at the entrance was indistinct. But Lin Qiu knew it wasn’t Lang Mo. Lang Yan watched Lin Qiu’s every move, the light in his eyes gradually darkening.

Lin Qiu sensed his scrutiny; it must have been his repeated requests that had caught the beastman’s attention.

This beastman was a solitary figure, his aura entirely different from Lang Mo’s. He surmised that the other must be a beastman of some standing within the Wolf Tribe. Lin Qiu said, “Could you give me some salt?”

Lang Yan glanced at the makeshift stove in the corner and said, “Behave yourself.”

The low voice carried the chill of a winter morning, like a forest draped in rime ice—a biting cold that made one shiver upon hearing it. Lin Qiu sat motionless in the grass nest, neither startled nor afraid, his gaze fixed on the beastman.

He could only sense a sharp presence; he couldn’t make out the face.

“How much longer will I be locked up?” he asked again.

Lin Qiu didn’t know what he’d done wrong; he was usually very well-behaved.

The beastman said nothing, as if he’d just dropped by to take a quick look, and left almost immediately. In the evening, it was Lang Mo who came again.

As usual, he brought meat and greens, and to his surprise, a small pinch of salt as well. Wrapped in a leaf, there was just enough for him to eat that one piece of meat. That beastman was indeed someone worth talking to.

Lin Qiu’s daily portion of stewed meat was replaced with pan-fried or grilled meat. He had originally wanted to stew the meat or boil water to drink, but as soon as he placed the clay pot over the fire, Lang Mo outside stopped him.

Lin Qiu knew then that clay pots were a rare commodity.

Every day, it was either grilled meat with vegetable leaves or pan-fried meat with vegetable leaves. After eating it for a while, Lin Qiu gradually lost interest.

Judging by the beastman’s attitude, he might have to stay in this cave for a long time.

Lin Qiu lay there for a few more days, but deep down, he was already accustomed to studying and working nonstop. An itch ran through his bones, and Lin Qiu’s eyes grew lifeless.

He resented the influence his parents had had on him, yet he couldn’t shake it off.

He wanted Lang Mo to help gather some branches and dry grass to improve the cave’s environment, but since the incident with the salt, he hadn’t been able to get anything from him. Lang Mo no longer spoke to him either.

Lin Qiu lost all interest.

He lay back down in the grassy nest, like a pile of rotten flesh. His gaze followed a beam of sunlight slowly moving across the cave, forcing himself to clear his mind and endure these long, idle days that made him restless.

He had broken away from them; he should enjoy this leisurely time, taking everything slowly—wasn’t that exactly what he had once hoped for? Perhaps five days, or perhaps ten, Lin Qiu no longer initiated conversation with Lang Mo, barely exchanging a single word all day. He had long since grown accustomed to being alone.

Footsteps of more than one person echoed from the cave entrance.

The rocks blocking the cave entrance were completely cleared away, and sunlight poured in.

Lin Qiu lay in a bed of grass; the sunlight momentarily blinded him, but once his eyes adjusted, he saw a very old beastman standing before him. He heard Lang Mo call out to him: “Old Priest.”

It seemed they were about to set out.

The old priest was clad in a loose-fitting animal-skin cloak that reached his ankles. He leaned on a smooth, well-worn wooden staff adorned with shells, bone, and fragments of purple or red stone and crystal that clinked and rang with a crisp sound whenever it moved.

Lin Qiu slowly stood up. He had never spent so many days lying down; he had slept his fill, but his limbs felt weak, and he staggered slightly. He gazed at the old beastman before him.

“Qiu, you may go now.”

Lin Qiu nodded.

As expected, he remained relatively calm.

However, his release came with conditions: Lin Qiu was required to spend half a day each day at the priest’s cave to receive instruction and supervision, obey the priest’s orders—in short, to work for the priest.

Behind him, Lang Mo had also obediently listened to the priest’s words. When Lin Qiu emerged, he whispered a warning: “Our tribe isn’t like yours. Don’t even think about running away or getting into trouble—we’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

Lin Qiu’s expression remained impassive. But the moment he stepped out of the chilly cave and gazed upon the vast, boundless greenery, a different emotion finally stirred within him.

The tension in his heart, stretched to the breaking point, eased slightly.

The forest’s distinctive, refreshing scent enveloped him. The sunlight was warm, banishing the musty odor from his body. If he could, Lin Qiu would have liked to find a patch of grass to lie down on, close his eyes, and soak up the sun.

He followed the two beastmen as they walked slowly eastward.

After walking for about half an hour, all he could see was a small hill at the end of the mountain range.

This must be the Wolf Mountain that Lang Mo had spoken of.

There were quite a few beastmen moving about in front of the mountain; upon noticing the commotion over here, they all stopped what they were doing.

The looks these beastmen gave him were far from friendly—ranging from hatred to disgust—and they were practically on the verge of spitting on the ground. But Lin Qiu noticed one who was different.

It was an elderly beastman, his gaze gentle. Lin Qiu looked at him and even managed a smile.

As he passed by, the old priest stopped. He said, “Gu, you should go back to bed.”

Gu was an exceptionally aged beastman. His hair was entirely white, his back hunched, and he could barely steady himself without leaning on a wooden staff.

The beastman was so thin it seemed as if his skin was stretched over his bones; from his face to his feet, the shape of his bones was clearly visible beneath the skin. The old beastman smiled and nodded.

“Beastmen aren’t forbidden from making mistakes. You’re young; being deceived by other beastmen is a lesson you had to learn. Just don’t do such foolish things again in the future.”

Lin Qiu glanced sideways and saw the old beastman looking at him gently; he lowered his eyes and gave a quiet reply.

He withdrew his gaze and continued to follow the old priest.

Lang Mo had left by then, gone off to do who knows what. Lin Qiu, meanwhile, followed the old beastman up the small hill until they reached a cave.

This was the old priest’s cave—exceptionally spacious, carved out specifically for him by the tribe. Standing on the platform in front of the cave, Lin Qiu realized that Wolf Mountain was situated at a considerable elevation.

The surrounding landscape was clearly visible.

To the south lay a flat, open expanse; not far from the cave, a great river flowed eastward from the west, its surface shimmering in the sunlight like white silk. To the west were high mountain ranges, while the northeast was a vast expanse of grassland.

With higher ground to the east and lower to the west, nestled against the mountains and beside the water, it was a fine spot.

There was no transition period for Lin Qiu; as soon as the priest dragged him out that morning, he had to follow him into the cave to work. The old priest’s cave was enormous—several times larger than his own.

Because it was so deep, it felt dark and gloomy.

It was filled with all sorts of things; the wooden shelves reaching all the way to the ceiling were lined with all kinds of animal-skin bags.

They contained animal body parts as well as various dried plants. Clay pots were extremely rare; the most eye-catching item was the large clay cooking pot in the center of the cave.

The old priest observed Lin Qiu’s scrutiny. He faded into the gloom and set down the staff he had been leaning on. His eyes, though cloudy, were sharp.

“Do not touch anything in this cave unless I tell you to. As for the pile of grass in the corner, the gray leaf grass must be used with its roots, the red stone grass must have its roots removed, and the eight leaf grass must…”

He rattled off the requirements in one breath. Lin Qiu looked at the pile of items, which stood nearly as tall as a person. Most were plants, but there were also animal bones and horns mixed in. The old priest watched his movements and assumed he had understood clearly.

Lin Qiu: “Priest, I don’t recognize these.” The old priest remained silent.

Lin Qiu looked at the bundle of grass on the ground, sat down casually, and waved the plant in his hand at the old priest. “Priest, is this gray leaf grass?”

Priest: “What do you think?”

Lin Qiu picked out one of each type of grass from the pile. Judging by their names, some were easy to identify. But he had no memories of this place, nor was he a beastman from this place. He asked about every single herb, until finally even the priest grew too weary to speak.

Lin Qiu looked at the old beastman hidden beneath his wide animal hide; the man was not friendly in the least.

Sorting herbs wasn’t difficult for Lin Qiu; once he got the hang of it, it required almost no thought. But there were so many herbs that by the time he finished sorting them, nearly the entire morning had passed.