Chapter Bonanza (8/10)

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Lang You didn’t have to carry any weight; right now, it was lying on top of the insect covered by grass and leaves, its chin resting on the creature’s tail.

The insect beneath them was as dead as could be.

“Where’s the king?” he asked.

Lin Qiu tied the grass rope while shaking his arm to move a little farther away from him. “He just headed east,” he said. Not long after, a black dot appeared in the east.

“Awoo!” The beastman, who had been lying down, suddenly stood up. Lin Qiu was startled.

Lang Bei pressed down hard on Wolf’s head. “Stop moving—it’s falling!”

“King! Where’d you find so many eggs?!” The beastmen, who had already tied up their hay bales, crowded around the grass basket Lang Yan had brought. It was half full—he must have taken several nests from someone!

Lang Yan set the basket down and said, “I found them in the grass.”

“We want to go look for some too!” Before they could leave, the beastmen from the gathering team grabbed their tails. Lang Bei: “We’re done.”

Lang Yan: “There aren’t any left.”

Well, there were still some left—Lang Yan wouldn’t have taken every last one. It’s best to leave a little for later so they could keep gathering in the future. It was getting late; going out today would only make them return even later—they’d probably be out until midnight.

After the grass was bundled up, Lin Qiu brought over his backpack. He layered it with grass and eggs, then packed the top tightly.

As the shimmering, gold-like ripples on the lake grew longer, the beastmen turned around and ran toward Wolf Mountain.

At dusk, a faint glow could be seen at the foot of Wolf Mountain.

The beastmen of Lang Bing’s squad emerged from the woods and crouched by the stream to wash their hands. They’d just planted some young medicinal herb seedlings, and their hands were covered in mud.

Lang Bing was just scraping the mud from between his fingernails when Lang Kim suddenly charged over and bumped into him, nearly sending him tumbling into the water. Lang Kim grabbed him by the arm to pull him back, and in the process, slapped him across the face.

“Ow!” Lang Kim clutched his arm pitifully.

Lang Rong, sitting on the other side of Lang Bing, said, “Bing, Qiu’s supposed to grill fish tonight. Why hasn’t he shown up yet…?” Lang Kim: “Yeah, yeah.”

Lang Bing: “They went to hunt.”

“How much longer do we have to wait…” Lang Kim plopped down on the ground, looking dejected. “An should be here.”

“But An’s cooking isn’t as good as Qiu’s.”

Lang Rong nodded silently.

Thinking back to yesterday’s grilled fish, he swallowed hard.

Regardless of whether it’s tasty or not, tonight’s grilled fish is more than one beastman can handle.

Since the sun hadn’t yet set, Lang An had already called over the beastmen from Lang Mu’s first squad to gut the fish.

Eight beastmen worked from dawn till dusk; what had started as one beastman gutting one fish had turned into an assembly line of scaling, removing gills, and gutting… with two beastmen each assigned a specific task. 

The beastmen’s eyes shifted from anticipation to restlessness, and then to numbness; their hands moved mechanically yet skillfully, even developing a few streamlined steps for gutting the fish.

Lang Mu: I’ve never felt this numb in my whole life…

From last night through today, they’d hauled in a little over three hundred fish from the cages—not counting the crabs and shrimp. Allotted two fish per beastman, there was more than enough to eat.

While Lang Mu was gutting the fish, Lang An was busy preparing them on the side.

He brought out every clay cooking pot and clay pot the tribe had, and called over the beastmen from Lang Shi and Lang Mo’s squads to help him wash the vegetables and seasoning.

Now, every last bit of the tribe’s spices would have to be used up. To ensure the best flavor, Lang An planned to cook in small batches.

Don’t think he didn’t hear what the young wolves were saying earlier.

Just because Lang An hadn’t cooked anything delicious before didn’t mean he couldn’t—he just found it too much trouble. He planned to grill the fish in three batches.

As soon as Lang Mu delivered the fish he’d just gutted, he immediately put them on the grill.

“An, Qiu isn’t here yet.” As Lang An got busy, the other wolf-beastmen gathered around him, forming a circle. Lang An: “Qiu taught me how to do this. I can handle it.”

The wolf-beastmen said nothing, their eyes fixed intently on him.

They really didn’t want to doubt An, but judging by his previous meals, while his cooking wasn’t bad, it still couldn’t compare to Qiu’s. Qiu had clearly promised them…

Lang An: “If you wait for Qiu, you won’t get to eat until midnight.”

The beastmen slumped to the ground, their tails drooping listlessly. Qiu doesn’t keep his word.

Lang An: “I really don’t want to cook this!”

Lang Huo, with his keen eyes, noticed Lang An’s expression and quickly herded the beastmen away. Not getting to eat something delicious is one thing; not getting enough to eat is another. 

Night fell, and the campfire blazed fiercely.

The beastmen devoured their food with great gusto, occasionally letting out a howl of delight as they ate—but they howled so often that it no longer seemed out of the ordinary.

“An! You’re a great cook too!” The beastman held a whole fishbone in his mouth, still savoring the juices with obvious relish. His eyes sparkled; he was practically wagging his tail. 

Lang An: It’s because he likes my cooking.

For the beastmen, a large pot of soup meant simply filling their bellies, but a small pot of stew was a true treat. The grilled fish, seasoned with all kinds of spices, was so delicious that even the broth made you want to lick the pot clean. How could it be this good!

So delicious that some beastmen, having had just one serving, suddenly found themselves wanting more.

The wolf-beastmen were secretly plotting to have a second helping, so they egged on the team leaders—Lang Huo, Lang Qiao, and a few others—to go talk to Lang An. Lang An knew at a glance what nonsense they were up to, ignored them completely, and hurried off to tidy up and go to sleep.

He was dead tired!

He couldn’t cook a proper meal even if he wanted to.

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

By the time Lin Qiu and his group reached the tribe, it was almost midnight.

The night was exceptionally quiet; the beastmen were ravenous, kept going only by the thought of the delicious meal awaiting them at the tribe. As soon as they emerged from the woods, they opened their mouths and began to howl.

The beastmen sleeping soundly in the cave pricked up their ears; their sweet dreams interrupted, they realized the others had arrived. With a resentful sigh, they rolled over, covered their ears, and went back to sleep.

There were more than four of these two groups of beastmen. The grilled fish had all been set aside for them, packed in clay cooking pots—they just needed to be warmed up before eating. Lin Qiu was arguably the most relaxed beastman in the group.

When he arrived at the tribe, he slid down the back of Lang Yan in a daze and went straight to the hearth to start a fire. The wolf-beastman must have caught the scent, as it shuffled over step by step, panting eagerly.

The heated grilled fish smelled even more fragrant; the meat had soaked up plenty of broth, making its flavor richer and more robust.

The beastmen sleeping in their straw nests opened their eyes, sat up abruptly, and stared outside with gleaming eyes. Lang An warned, “The king is here; do you dare to steal it?”

The beastmen drooped their ears, curled up in a ball, and tucked their tails over the tips of their noses.

The embers in the clay cooking pot had just died down, so it didn’t take long to reheat the food. Lin Qiu called for the beastmen to bring bowls to serve the meal.

Estimating the quantity—two pieces per beastman—the small, bowl-like serving bowls were filled to the brim. After adding some greens and ladling in some broth, the mere scent was enough to make the beastmen unable to resist.

The beastmen slurped up the broth as if it were thin porridge.

Some, exhausted, leaned against the low wall, focused solely on shoveling food into their mouths. Lin Qiu also propped himself against the wall, eating slowly.

The low wall was perfectly designed and put to excellent use.

Outside, the beastmen were stuffing their faces frantically; inside the cave, the beastmen were licking their lips with hunger, and the sound of swallowing echoed from every grass nest. Lang An covered his ears with his paw pads, but even he couldn’t help himself.

“I’ll figure it out later anyway—I’ll just do it tomorrow.”

Once the beastmen had finished eating, they flopped down on the ground, closed their eyes, and didn’t want to get up. Bowls and chopsticks were scattered everywhere, licked until they were shiny and spotless—they didn’t look like they’d just been used at all.

Lin Qiu ate late and ate slowly.

By the end, he was practically stuffing food into his mouth with his eyes closed.

Lang Yan glanced at the beastmen on the ground and said, “Wash your bowls, then go sleep in your grass nests.” The wolf pack stirred, trying to get out of it. “King, we’re tired…”

Lang Yan: “I’ll wash them for you.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the wolf-beastman suddenly snapped his eyes open, scrambled to his feet, and clutched the bowl as he stumbled toward the stream. He hurriedly washed it, rolled into his grass nest, and fell fast asleep. 

Lin Qiu: …

His drowsiness vanished instantly.

He glanced sideways at the beastman leaning against the low wall. Seeing that the beastman was still staring at him, Lin Qiu said, “I haven’t finished eating yet.” Lin Qiu served himself a small fish, piling on plenty of side dishes.

Lang Yan: “I’m not rushing you.”

Lin Qiu nodded heavily, still feeling sleepy.  After finishing his meal, he strolled leisurely to the stream to wash his bowl, then washed up.

Lang Yan saw him chewing on a twig again and asked, “Are your teeth bothering you?”

Lin Qiu could barely keep his eyes open; with them half-closed, he said, “Brushing my teeth—removing food debris stuck between them to prevent cavities later.” 

Lang Yan: “Does it hurt?”

Lin Qiu chewed on the crushed twig and shook his head.

Lang Yan said, “Some older beastmen in the tribe complain of toothaches, and even the little wolves do.” 

Lin Qiu thought for a moment and said, “I’ll make some toothbrushes when I have a chance.”

Lin Qiu didn’t really want to chew on twigs either; he just hadn’t found any suitable fur yet.

The fur from the Curved Horn Beasts, Spiked-Horn Beasts, and Yoyo Beasts the tribe had caught earlier wasn’t any good.

From the name, Lang Yan had a general idea of what a toothbrush was; he nodded, gathered the two of their bowls and chopsticks, and set them aside. Lin Qiu washed his face one more time, then stumbled out of the cave, still half-asleep.

Lin Qiu slept through the morning and didn’t get up until noon, just in time for lunch.

Today, the first hunting party and the gathering party didn’t go out. They’d arrived late yesterday and needed to catch up on sleep. After Lin Qiu finished lunch, Lang Bei came over to ask how to process the wild herbs.

Lin Qiu: “Soak them in water. You have to let the skin rot away.”

Lang Bei agreed, ordered the beastmen to get to work, and Lin Qiu hurried off to the Priest’s Cave.

After studying all afternoon, Lin Qiu emerged from the Priest’s Cave, yawning. Smoke was curling from the chimney on the roof of the Wolf Mountain hut—they had already started preparing dinner.

Further away, there was some commotion in the woods.

The young wolves were making a racket—perhaps they were digging for yams again.

The grass Lin Qiu had brought with him was nowhere to be seen in front of Wolf Mountain. He asked one of the beastmen, who explained that it had been left soaking in the small stream on the western side of Wolf Mountain.

Wearing his straw shoes, Lin Qiu headed west.

Just then, Lang Yan emerged from a cave on the western side of the mountain. Lin Qiu quickened his pace, but suddenly stopped in his tracks. He watched helplessly as his straw shoes flew off his feet.

Lin Qiu curled his toes.

The ground to the west was rocky, so Lin Qiu walked on tiptoes, head down. Lang Yan picked up the straw sandals and gave them a once-over. “They’re ruined,” he said.

A faint blush touched the tips of Lin Qiu’s ears; he pursed his lips slightly and took the sandals back, looking a bit embarrassed. “It’s okay, I’ll make another pair.”

Lang Yan looked at Lin Qiu’s feet. The soles were pale pink, bearing the imprints left by the straw shoes. There were no calluses, unlike those found on the feet of most beastmen.

“What are you doing over here?” 

“Handling the wild herbs—and I stopped by to see you.” 

“Hm?”

Lin Qiu, his straw shoes slung loosely on his feet, approached the riverbank and asked, “Is there any animal fur that’s a little stiffer?” 

“To make a toothbrush?”

Lin Qiu nodded.

Lang Yan: “The snout beast.” 

Lin Qiu: “Is it easy to catch?”

Lang Yan nodded. “There are some in the woods. I’ll send Xiao Lang to get one.”

Snoutbeasts like to dig burrows; they’re small and usually come out at night. Their fur is coarse and stiff, but their meat is sour—eating it gives you an upset stomach.

Digging out of their burrows is a job best suited for Xiao Lang.