There was still plenty of meat to go around today. Lin Qiu hadn’t finished yesterday’s portion yet, so he planned to save the rest.

The beastmen, having had their fill for two days in a row, shuffled slowly into the cave, flopped down on their straw beds, smacked their lips contentedly, and were snoring soundly within moments. Lin Qiu still brought up the rear as he entered.

The beastmen weren’t as hostile as they had been at first; they merely pricked up their ears to listen or cast a glance his way before looking away—but they still didn’t take kindly to him.

Lin Qiu lay down directly in his own grass nest and pulled the animal hide over himself.

His fair chin was hidden in the soft fur, making his face look barely larger than the palm of a hand. His bones were slender too, and he looked more fragile than most sub-beastmen. As he rolled over, he felt a tugging sensation in his arm, accompanied by a faint ache.

Lin Qiu lifted the animal hide and glanced at his arm by the light of the nearby fire. A thin layer of skin had been torn away from the sunburned area, and it didn’t look good. Lin Qiu hooked his finger through the hide draped over him, ran his fingers over it, then turned to look at Lang Yan.

The tribe surely had a stockpile of animal hides; he wanted some to make clothes and would be willing to trade for them. But he was currently confined to the Wolf Mountain area and had nothing to offer in exchange.

If he were to tan fresh hides himself… but in the tribe, any unskinned game was simply singed to remove the fur, and the hides were distributed among the beastmen to eat.

Lin Qiu furrowed his brow slightly and lay back down. He would just have to think of another way.

Lin Qiu closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep, while Lang Yan lowered his gaze, watching the sub-beastman curled up in the den.

His eyes were closed, yet his pupils still darted about—who knew what scheme he was hatching now.

In the fire pit, the wood burned to a charcoal black, occasionally accompanied by the crackling sound of wood splitting. Not a single beastman spoke in the cave; only the sound of steady breathing filled the air.

It started raining again, and Lin Qiu burrowed deeper into the animal hide, half-asleep.

The hide was large enough to cover his head as well, leaving him nearly curled into a ball.

Lang Yan watched the sub-beastman’s hand clutching the hide—it was covered in scratches and cuts, some already scabbed over, others oozing blood. The slender, pale fingers looked as if they might snap at any moment.

It wasn’t just his behavior; his appearance, too, seemed different from when he’d first been brought here.

Lang Yan stared at that hand, trying to recall his earlier memories of the sub-beastman. They were hazy; all he could remember was his own hysterical rage.

The rain lulled him to sleep, and with the animal hide being so spacious, Lin Qiu didn’t feel as tense as he had the previous two nights; instead, he slept with a sense of peace. However, deep into the night, a sudden, stinging pain shot through the palm of his hand.

Looking once more at the cub that had successfully placed its tiny paw on his palm, Lin Qiu was at a loss for words.

The cub’s claws were small and somewhat sharp, and they dug into his palm, causing a slight sting.

Lin Qiu watched as the cub sniffed the palm of his hand, then silently lifted its tiny paw. The paw pads were so soft—a world apart from those of an adult beastman. Lin Qiu withdrew his hand and hid it beneath the animal hide.

The cub thought he was playing with him and happily burrowed back into the fur. Its short tail wagged—it looked just like a little puppy. Lin Qiu didn’t dare touch him and immediately glanced behind him.

Lang Yan was lying in the den when he suddenly opened his eyes.

Lin Qiu had always known he was sharp, yet he was still startled by those piercing gray eyes.

He glanced at the cub in his own grass nest, then turned back—and Lang Yan knew exactly what was going on. Lang Yan stared at the cub.

The cub’s tail stiffened, and it scrambled desperately to burrow deeper into Lin Qiu’s animal hide. Lang Yan rose to his feet; Lin Qiu quickly sat up and pulled the hide aside. A moment later, Lang Yan closed in.

With a gentle flip, he turned the cub onto its back.

He nudged the cub’s belly with the tip of his nose, but its large ears brushed against his chest. Lin Qiu clenched his fists tightly.

Once he’d carried the cub away, Lin Qiu pressed his lips together, immediately wrapped himself in the hide, and closed his eyes. Lang Yan returned and glanced into Lin Qiu’s den.

The sub-beastman’s eyelashes trembled violently, and his hands, clutching the edge of the animal hide, were clenched tight. He was quite bold, daring to make demands of the priest; he shouldn’t be so easily frightened. Lang Yan slowly entered the grass nest, thinking of the cub’s round belly.

If it wasn’t hungry, then why had it run into Lin Qiu’s grass nest? He cast a suspicious glance at Lin Qiu.

In the struggles between tribes, it wasn’t unheard of for young cubs to be lured away and killed. This was a massive blow to the tribe. But these days, he’d been behaving himself and hadn’t been in contact with beastmen from other tribes—except for a faint scent on him… When he was close by, he could always catch a whiff of it whenever a sub-beastman passed by, and it lingered in his den as well.

It wasn’t the scent of food, but an indescribable, delicate fragrance. It was somewhat like the flowers that bloom beneath snowdrifts during the winter—subtle and faint.

Wolf-beastmen have keen noses. Since Lin Qiu had set up his den right next to him, he could smell it almost every night. Lang Yan closed his eyes, intending to ask the priest about it.

With the sub-beastman right under his nose now, there was no way it could cause any trouble.

For several days in a row, the hunt yielded a decent amount of game, and Lin Qiu had stockpiled some meat.

However, as the weather grew hotter, the meat would spoil if left too long. Lin Qiu turned whatever they couldn’t eat into jerky. It was no longer bearable to stay out in the sun.

The sunlight here was different from before—exceptionally bright and blinding.

Lin Qiu moved the cooking stove to a spot at the foot of the mountain that offered some shade and used some large leaves to shield himself.

It was already afternoon. The beastmen had long since picked every last wood ear from the nearby patches. With nothing to eat until the hunting party returned, they lay on the ground, waiting it out.

All Lin Qiu had left was the meat and greens distributed by the tribe.

While jerky was roasting on the stove, Lin Qiu cut off some of the fresh lean meat distributed last night, chopped it into small pieces, and pounded it in a stone cooking pot. He pounded the meat into a paste, shaped it into meatballs, and then boiled them.

Lin Qiu didn’t eat them all; he set two aside in a hollowed-out wooden bucket, submerged in the stream.

As night fell, when he once again cradled a soft, squishy cub in his palm, Lin Qiu opened his eyes and gazed quietly at it.

The cub was quiet and uncomplaining, wagging its tail happily as it climbed up his arm to his shoulder. It curled up against him as if they’d known each other forever, nestling against the side of his neck. Its wet little tongue licked his face, and Lin Qiu turned his head away.

He looked at the cub, and the cub looked back at him.

Unwilling to let Lin Qiu move, the cub rubbed its head against his face with all its might. It felt slimy.

Lin Qiu watched for a while, until the cub grew tired of rubbing against him and collapsed like a round winter melon. Only then did he gently tap its head and run his index finger over its tiny, shell-like nose.

Time and again, it was always this white wolf cub. Lin Qiu shifted slightly and spread his hands.

The leaves parted, revealing a round, plump meatball that filled the air with its aroma.

The pup’s eyes lit up; it plunged its head into the meat, its little teeth scraping against it, eating so fast its tail wagged into a blur. Lin Qiu could clearly hear the change in breathing behind him—Lang Yan had woken up.

He was still watching this scene.

Not stopping it meant allowing it.

Lin Qiu pressed his lips together, a faint smile slowly curving his mouth.

Although Lang Yan couldn’t make out Lin Qiu’s expression, he could sense that he was in a good mood. He cast a glance at the cub, then withdrew his gaze.

He had asked the priest that morning about the scent he’d detected, and the stern old beastman had smiled—a rare occurrence. Lang Yan hadn’t received an answer, but that smile seemed off.

Lang Yan didn’t want to dwell on it; as long as it didn’t affect the tribe, nothing else mattered.

The white wolf cub in the den was named Xue, the largest of the cubs, and had been born two years ago. Cubs in the tribe could take human form between one and three years after birth, and once they did, they could run and jump.

The old priest said that in past years, cubs could usually transform successfully in about a year, but now, with food scarce, it often took three years, or even five. Lang Yan thought of the cub’s weak limbs and frail body, and for a moment, all his thoughts vanished.

The herd they had recently hunted had already left the tribe’s territory, so they had no choice but to search for a new one.

Although the meat rations these past few days haven’t been small, the beastmen simply eat whatever they’re given.

Lang Yan had considered having the beastmen follow the example of the sub-beastmen—cooking their meat with vegetables at every meal and eating only half of it. But upon reflection, he realized it wouldn’t work.

The sub-beastmen could barely get enough to eat, but the beastmen consumed enormous amounts of meat; even if they mixed it with vegetables and water, the meat wasn’t enough, and it still wasn’t enough to sustain them. Besides, the tribe didn’t have the resources to prepare food the way the sub-beastmen did, nor did they have enough clay cooking pots.

Hunting for prey and filling their bellies had already left them utterly exhausted.

Lang Yan felt a new weight settle in his heart; his wolf tail went still, and his mountain-like frame slumped to the ground.

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

In the days that followed, food grew scarce once more.

Lin Qiu was still holding up, but the beastmen were so starved they barely had the strength to speak. From the moment they lay down outside the cave in the morning, they didn’t move a single step until the afternoon. Lin Qiu had no doubt that they weren’t sleeping—they had simply fainted from hunger.

Lin Qiu sat at the foot of Wolf Mountain, watching quietly, his heart growing heavy as well.

Given how difficult hunting had become, the wolf-beastmen would only grow weaker and weaker; it would be no surprise if they starved to death.

Lin Qiu scanned the group of beastmen, furrowing his brow as he suddenly recalled the old beastman he’d met when the ban was lifted. He hadn’t seen him in many days.

He looked at the wolf lying on the ground; with every breath, its sunken belly was a frightening sight.

This can’t go on.

In the afternoon, the beastmen returned.

The prey was small this time, but there were three of them. They set one aside for a safety net for tomorrow and slaughtered the remaining two.

Lin Qiu watched them skin the wolves. After a moment’s pause, he saw Lang Yan heading down from the isolated caves on Wolf Mountain with the meat, and he hurried over in his straw shoes.

Lang Yan stopped.

This spot was a bit far from the campfire; the light didn’t reach here, and it was dim, with only the outline of Wolf Mountain and the faint glow of embers from the caves behind it. When Lin Qiu was two steps away from him, he stopped.

It wasn’t until he was this close that he realized just how tall the Lang Yan man was. He was almost a head taller than him.

He stood with his back straight, waiting for him to approach, his gray eyes cast downward, waiting for him to speak. Lin Qiu: “I want some animal hides. I can trade for them.”

Lang Yan’s gaze swept over the straw shoes on his feet, and he nodded.

His agreement was surprisingly straightforward, catching Lin Qiu off guard.

“I don’t have anything to offer right now, but once I’m out of Wolf Mountain, I can…”

Lang Yan: “No.”

Ordinary animal hides weren’t anything rare; they had a huge pile of them stockpiled in their cave.

“Fresh ones?”

Lin Qiu paused. “The ones without fur.” 

Lang Yan: “Mm-hmm.”

All the hides in the cave have fur; the ones they kept were the long-haired ones.

Winters were bitterly cold; even their fur could only keep them warm for a short while outdoors. If they were in human form, they’d have to wrap themselves up so tightly that only their eyes were visible before venturing out.

He gave him the hides simply to see what he intended to do. Lang Yan returned to the beastmen’s camp.

The hides had just been flayed and were still warm; they were immediately brought over to Lin Qiu. Two hides, each the size of an adult sheep, were brought to him by Lang Yan.

He gladly accepted them, intending to start working on them after dinner tonight—the sooner, the better.

Lang Yan left, and as the flames burned upward, Lin Qiu reached out, and a strand of black wolf hair drifted slowly into his hand. Lin Qiu instinctively glanced at Lang Yan.

He twirled the wolf hair between his fingers…

If there were enough wolf hair, perhaps he could even make a sweater.

Lang Yan looked over, their gazes meeting. Lin Qiu felt a pang of guilt under those gray eyes and looked away first.