Building a Civilization and Raising Cubs in the Beast World – Chapter 143

Ying Mian watched Xiong Liao’s expression collapse and, for a fleeting moment, began to doubt himself.

Why, out of all the tribes, had he chosen to settle in the White Bear Tribe?

Regret pricked at him. He wrapped the egg carefully, his movements cold and deliberate. Never mind. A fool didn’t deserve to know. He shouldn’t have let Bai Tu’s words soften him earlier—shouldn’t have felt the slightest bit of sympathy for Xiong Liao.

Now, that brief softness vanished the moment Xiong Liao mentioned a “new mate.”

While Ying Mian busied himself with the eggs, ignoring him completely, Xiong Liao’s mind churned with distress.

“Mian, who’s your new mate? Is she from the Snow Rabbit Tribe?” he asked earnestly. It had to be. Ying Mian had stayed here all this time and refused to go back—clearly because his new mate was in this tribe.

No wonder he’d been eating so much lately and refusing to go anywhere else. Of course—he had a new partner now.

The realization hit Xiong Liao like a boulder. Ying Mian had found someone new… so, should he go back now?

His gaze flicked between the wooden box on the bed, Ying Mian’s calm face, and finally down to his own paws. But in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

If he left now, what if Ying Mian never let him in again? Especially now that Ying Mian had already laid so many eggs for someone else—clearly doting on this new mate.

Ying Mian didn’t even bother responding to the question. How could anyone be so stupid?

He decided then and there—he would stay in the Snow Rabbit Tribe forever. The cubs must never meet their other father, or they’d risk inheriting his idiocy.

While Ying Mian was silently vowing to raise his child far away from that kind of foolishness, Xiong Liao was lost in his own, entirely different, train of thought.

He’d been here so long, and Ying Mian’s supposed new mate still hadn’t shown up. That could only mean one thing: the other was weak.

And every time he brought food, Ying Mian ate it without hesitation—clear proof that her new mate couldn’t even feed her properly.

The more he thought about it, the more confident he became.

He could defeat Ying Mian’s new mate and take her back!

But just as this dangerous thought took root, Xiong Liao remembered what others had told him before:

A good mate treats their partner gently—not with force.

If he fought Ying Mian’s new mate, Mian would definitely be angry with him. That wouldn’t do.

The more Xiong Liao reasoned with himself, the more proud he became of his restraint. When he looked back at Ying Mian, the disappointment in his eyes had vanished, replaced by a solemn sense of purpose.

“Mian,” he said earnestly, “your cub’s other father must be really useless.”

He added silently: Unlike me.

Ying Mian gave him a long, unreadable look and nodded. “Yes. Very useless.”

The agreement made Xiong Liao’s ears twitch with delight. “He must be completely irresponsible!”

So come back to me, he wanted to add.

Ying Mian: “…”

“Yes, irresponsible,” Ying Mian echoed flatly. If agreeing will shut you up, then fine.

Encouraged, Xiong Liao grew even more animated. “He actually left you to take care of the egg all by yourself! That’s too much!”

On his way to the market once, he’d seen Bai Tu and Lang Qi caring for their cubs together, taking turns so neither was ever left alone. But Ying Mian had always been by himself, caring for the egg without help. It must be exhausting. And that mate of his didn’t even lift a paw to help!

The more Xiong Liao thought about it, the angrier he got.

If it were me, he thought, I’d take care of the cub myself every day. I’d never let Mian get tired.

But then a pang of sadness hit him. I’d love to care for her cub, but she won’t lay one for me…

“Why would you lay eggs for someone else but not for me…” he murmured under his breath, barely loud enough for Ying Mian to catch.

Ying Mian was about to say something when Xiong Liao added quietly, “Is it because I don’t have wings? Is that it? You’ll only lay eggs for someone with wings?”

Xiong Liao rubbed his back thoughtfully, then muttered to himself, “I wonder if Bai Tu has a way to make someone grow wings…”

He’d heard all kinds of stories about the Snow Rabbit Tribe’s leader, and in his mind, Bai Tu could practically do anything.

Ying Mian’s patience snapped. He pointed to the door and said coldly, “No. Get out.”

Sure enough—pity was useless. Softness was a mistake.

He should never have let Xiong Liao in. The longer you listened to a fool talk, the more your brain started to melt.

He decided right then that once the rain stopped, he’d move to another courtyard and keep the cub as far away from Xiong Liao as possible. “You’d better go back to your own tribe,” Ying Mian said sharply. “If you don’t, you’ll lose your position as leader.”

Unlike the Snow Rabbit or Blood Wolf Tribes, the White Bear Tribe followed a strict hierarchy.

Xiong Liao’s favoritism toward the newly joined Eagle Tribe and his continued visits to the Snow Rabbit Tribe had already stirred resentment among his own orcs. Though the discontent remained hidden under a surface of unity, it was real—and it often left Xiong Liao uneasy before making big decisions.

He could feel that resentment growing, and he knew his people wanted him to return. After all, it wasn’t right for a tribal leader to keep visiting another tribe every few days, especially when he brought food with him each time.

Even if the food came from his personal share, many bears thought it was wrong.

Some even believed Ying Mian leaving was a good thing—it would finally push Xiong Liao to find a proper bear mate from within the tribe.

Remembering all that, Xiong Liao shook his head stubbornly. “I don’t want to go back,” he said. “If I lose my position, so be it. I want my mate.”

Only now did he finally understand what the others had once told him:

“If you don’t fight harder, your partner will really fly away.”

He couldn’t remember who said it, but the meaning was now painfully clear.

He had to fight for Ying Mian.

Reinvigorated, Xiong Liao clenched his fists, determination burning in his eyes. He’d bring Ying Mian back—no matter what.

Ying Mian, oblivious to his inner monologue, simply sighed. Watching Xiong Liao’s expression shift from sad to excited to stubborn, he quietly turned the egg over again.

Once the rain stopped, he decided, he’d go for a walk. Staying cooped up like this was unbearable—and he couldn’t sleep without moving around a little.

Meanwhile, Xiong Liao, misreading Ying Mian’s silence entirely, grew even more melancholic. He thought Ying Mian was lost in thoughts of that “new mate.”

“Your partner doesn’t like you,” he muttered miserably. “He probably likes you less than I do.”

Ying Mian’s voice turned even colder. “If you don’t like her, then stop liking her. And leave.”

Eventually, Ying Mian kicked him out.

By the next morning, the entire Snow Rabbit Tribe had heard about it.

It wasn’t every day that their tribe had such a dramatic love story—especially between outsiders—so of course, everyone talked about it.

Ying Mian’s behavior baffled them. If he liked Xiong Liao, why not go back with him? If he didn’t, why had they had so many cubs?

And then there was Xiong Liao himself.

If he didn’t care, why visit every two days, even through the heaviest rains?
If he did care, why did he always make Ying Mian so angry?

With nothing else to do during the long rainy season, their story had become the tribe’s favorite gossip topic.

“There’s definitely something wrong with Xiong Liao,” someone said with confidence. “Ying Mian never gets mad for no reason. He’s so gentle—if he’s angry, Xiong Liao must’ve done something.”

“Maybe he’s found someone new,” another whispered. “I heard the White Bear Tribe is picking out a strong she-bear to be their next leader.”

Instantly, several pairs of ears perked up.

“Where did you hear that?”
“Who told you?”
“Is it true?”

The sudden rumor spread like wildfire, and soon everyone was whispering about it.

Ying Mian, who had taken advantage of a brief break in the rain to go for a walk, froze when he overheard the gossip.

Without a word, he turned around, went home, and quietly changed the water in the incubator.

His father had been right:

Never trust a male orc. Relationships between males and sub-beasts are nothing but transactions. Only sub-beasts can be trusted.

It was fine. He could raise the cub alone.

Bai Tu didn’t hear about the rumor until the next day.

By then, the gossip had grown so detailed that even the supposed “identity” of Xiong Liao’s new mate had been invented.

Bai Tu could only stare blankly when he heard it.

Xiong Liao had just visited Ying Mian yesterday. How could he have found a new partner overnight?

No matter how he thought about it, it made no sense.

And he wasn’t just saying that—he knew Xiong Liao didn’t have that kind of cunning. If Xiong Liao really wanted to juggle two mates, he’d never let the whole tribe find out.

Even setting Xiong Liao aside, there was another reason this rumor was ridiculous: Ying Qin—formerly a minor leader of the Eagle Tribe and one of the most terrifying sub-beasts Bai Tu had ever heard of.

Ying Mian had mentioned Ying Qin several times. Small in stature, yes—but with a temper inversely proportional to his size. If anyone dared offend him, he’d scold them for three days and three nights straight.

From Ying Mian’s stories and his sensitivity to the word parrot, Bai Tu had guessed that Ying Qin was, in fact, a parrot orc—loud, sharp-tongued, and relentless.

And extremely protective of his kin.

If any bear so much as bullied a single eagle, Ying Qin would raise such a ruckus that no one could sleep for days.

There was no way Ying Qin would ever allow Xiong Liao to take another mate while still bound to Ying Mian.

If Xiong Liao had truly tried, Ying Qin’s scolding would’ve reached the entire continent before the mating ceremony even began.

Still, Bai Tu decided to confirm things personally.

After some digging, he learned what had really happened:

A patrol from the Snow Rabbit Tribe had run into some orcs from the White Bear Tribe, who mentioned that their tribe was planning to choose a strong, capable bear to be their next leader.

That was it.

But by the time the gossip traveled through a dozen mouths and the rainy night, the story had morphed into a full-blown scandal.

Bai Tu paused for a moment, then instructed his people not to spread rumors so carelessly in the future. After that, he went straight to see Ying Mian.

He was worried that Ying Mian might take the gossip too seriously. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but Bai Tu had long sensed that Ying Mian carried a deep-seated insecurity whenever it came to Xiong Liao—an unease that had prevented their misunderstandings from ever being resolved.

He had noticed it even earlier—back when they were on their way to the market. Whenever Ying Mian spoke of Xiong Liao, he would repeatedly stress that their relationship was purely physical, nothing more than a temporary arrangement. It was as though he’d been preparing himself for separation from the very beginning.

In short, Ying Mian was insecure.

Like a hatchling aware of the dangers outside its nest, he withdrew into his shell at the first sign of trouble, unwilling to risk stepping out again.

Finding a partner wasn’t the issue—it was living with one. Bai Tu worried that if Ying Mian stayed trapped in this mindset for too long, it might harm him.

He had seen this kind of thing before. Some orcs, after giving birth, would hide their cubs away. It always came from the same root—fear that the world wasn’t safe enough. But ironically, such behavior often put both parent and cub in even greater danger.

Bai Tu feared that if Ying Mian’s anxiety grew any worse, he might actually try to move his eggs elsewhere.

He hadn’t told anyone this—not even Hei Xiao—but he was sure only the two of them had sensed the change. To anyone else, Ying Mian looked perfectly fine. He hid his fragility well.

When Bai Tu arrived, Ying Mian was alone in the room. The two cubs from the day before hadn’t been brought back yet. One look told Bai Tu that Ying Mian wasn’t feeling well again.

“Mian,” Bai Tu said softly, “are you unwell? If you need to rest, let Xiao take care of the cubs for you.”

Hatching three eggs took nearly as much effort as hatching eight. Hei Xiao had Hei Yan’s help, so even if Ying Mian sent over a few eggs, they would be well taken care of.

“I’m fine,” Ying Mian said quietly.

But Bai Tu didn’t believe him.

After a moment’s hesitation, Ying Mian said, “Tu… I want to move.”

“Hm?” Bai Tu blinked, following Ying Mian’s gaze to the incubator. He understood immediately.

“Are you really in such a hurry?” Bai Tu asked calmly. “The cub’s only a month old. Moving now might not be good for it. Are you sure you want to move?”

Truthfully, moving the eggs wouldn’t have much physical effect—they were often sent next door for Hei Xiao to watch over anyway. But Bai Tu wanted Ying Mian to think it through carefully.

He had another concern too: if Ying Mian moved now, it might not be the last time. One move could be fine—but moving again and again would only deepen his anxiety, trapping him further in that restless cycle.

“Let me think about it,” Ying Mian said after a pause. When it came to his cubs, he was always cautious. After a few moments of quiet reflection, he finally shook his head. “Forget it. We’ll stay.”

“What made you think of moving?” Bai Tu asked gently, straightening the small blanket over the incubator.

“Xiong Liao’s mate knows where I live,” Ying Mian admitted without hesitation.

Bai Tu: “…”

Ah. So that’s it.

“That’s just a rumor,” Bai Tu explained. “It’s not true. Xiong Liao doesn’t have a new mate. A few orcs from the White Bear Tribe suggested it, but he refused.”

Ying Mian moved closer to the incubator, his hands unconsciously resting near the egg as if shielding it. He shook his head. “Even if it’s just a suggestion, there are many orcs in the White Bear Tribe who want him to take a bear mate. It’ll happen sooner or later.”

He wasn’t against Xiong Liao finding someone new—what worried him was how that future mate might treat his cubs.

If it had been six months ago, Ying Mian would never have had such thoughts. But now, with the cub beside him, the world suddenly seemed full of hidden dangers.

“It depends on what he does,” Bai Tu said, trying to reassure him. “Even if Xiong Liao knows where you live, it’s fine. Not everyone can just walk into our tribe.”

He spoke the truth. The only reason Xiong Liao had ever been allowed in was because of Ying Mian. Without that connection, he wouldn’t have stood a chance.

And as for Xiong Liao’s hypothetical new mate—even if such a person existed—Bai Tu would never allow them to disturb Ying Mian’s peace.

To him, Ying Mian’s safety and comfort were far more important than any outsider’s status. The rest of the tribe felt the same. That was why, when they gossiped yesterday, they spoke of Xiong Liao by name, but mentioned Ying Mian with warmth and respect.

In their hearts, Ying Mian was already one of them—a member of the Snow Rabbit Tribe. Xiong Liao, on the other hand, was merely an orc from another tribe who didn’t know his place.

Hearing Bai Tu’s words, Ying Mian finally dropped the idea of moving. But he also decided, firmly, that he would no longer contact Xiong Liao again.

Seeing the look in Ying Mian’s eyes, Bai Tu grew more concerned. “Mian, besides this rumor, did you hear anything else?” he asked. “A single piece of gossip shouldn’t have made you so upset.”

Ying Mian hesitated.

“Tell me,” Bai Tu said kindly. “Maybe I can help.”

Ying Mian shook his head. “You don’t have to help,” he said, but after a pause, he began to speak.

He had told Bai Tu before that his two fathers were Black Eagle and White Eagle—the latter a sub-beast. But there was something he hadn’t mentioned.

He had been taken away from his birth father, Black Eagle, by White Eagle’s father.

“He wanted to trade my father and me to the Black Forest Tribe for food,” Ying Mian said quietly.

The “he” in question was Black Eagle himself.

Not every Black Eagle was loyal and steadfast like Hei Yan. White Eagle had simply been unlucky enough to fall for one who valued profit above all else.

In those days, life had been much harsher. Sub-beasts were barely tolerated, often treated as burdens. When White Eagle met Black Eagle, he had been deceived by his gentleness and care—by the illusion of safety he offered.

It wasn’t until after Ying Mian’s birth that his true colors were revealed. Black Eagle resented the cub—resented that a tiny child couldn’t be traded for much.

After overhearing his intentions by chance, White Eagle fled with Ying Mian, still just a hatchling. Eventually, by sheer luck, they found refuge in the Eagle Five Tribe under Chief Ying Qin.

The Eagle Five Tribe was small but unique. Its members were all feathered orcs—most of them small, quick, and agile. In such a tribe, White Eagle and Ying Mian stood out naturally, even as outsiders.

But White Eagle had never recovered from her trauma. Her health declined, and when Ying Mian was ten, she passed away.

Before her death, she left him one lesson he would never forget:

“Never trust the words of a male orc—especially when it comes to cubs.”

That warning had shaped Ying Mian’s life.

It explained everything—his cautiousness around Xiong Liao, his readiness to leave right after laying the eggs, and his determination to raise the cubs alone. He hadn’t expected Xiong Liao to keep returning again and again.

Bai Tu listened quietly until the end. And then, at last, he understood.

Ying Mian wasn’t running from love—he was running from his past.

From the fear of meeting another “Black Eagle.”

For a long time, Bai Tu said nothing. Human nature—or orc nature—was complex. He could see that Xiong Liao genuinely cared for Ying Mian, but no one could predict the future. Only time would prove whether Xiong Liao’s devotion would last.

Still, Bai Tu believed that the wounds in Ying Mian’s heart would heal someday.

“You won’t have to suffer like your father,” Bai Tu said gently. “You have us now. No matter what happens with Xiong Liao, the Snow Rabbit Tribe will always stand by you—just as Chief Ying Qin once protected your father.”

Ying Mian nodded. He trusted Bai Tu completely. The tribe had already proven its kindness to sub-beasts—he’d seen it himself.

In Bai Tu’s presence, Ying Mian always felt calmer. And hearing those reassuring words, the tension in his chest slowly eased. For the first time in days, he stopped thinking about Xiong Liao.

But just as he relaxed, a familiar voice called from outside.

“Mian? Mian!”

Ying Mian froze, then turned toward the door—but couldn’t see anyone through it.

“Should I let him in?” Bai Tu asked quietly. “Let’s see what he wants.”

Because Xiong Liao came so often, the patrol team had long stopped turning him away at the border. They would usually let him enter first, then report to Bai Tu or Bai An afterward. It was, admittedly, awkward to leave him standing in the rain.

Bai Tu couldn’t help thinking that Bai Qi would probably throw another fit of jealousy after this visit—just like he always did whenever Xiong Liao appeared.

Ying Mian didn’t refuse. He nodded slightly, giving permission.

When the door opened, both of them froze.

Xiong Liao stood there drenched from the rain, carrying a massive backpack that reached up to his shoulders, stuffed to the brim.

Bai Tu: “…”

Did he decide that visiting every three days wasn’t enough and just bring everything this time?

Ying Mian’s face mirrored Bai Tu’s disbelief.

“What are you doing?” Ying Mian asked warily.

Xiong Liao lowered the pack to the floor with a thud and said, full of confidence, “I’m joining the Snow Rabbit Tribe!”

He’d finally figured it out—if Ying Mian wouldn’t return to the White Bear Tribe, then he’d simply come here instead. As for that “new mate,” Xiong Liao had already reasoned it out: Ying Mian had only chosen someone else because he hadn’t been around. Now that he was here, he’d win him back for sure.

Bai Tu was speechless. “If you join the Snow Rabbit Tribe, what happens to the White Bear Tribe?” he asked carefully. “You are their leader.”

“They said they’re picking a new leader anyway,” Xiong Liao said cheerfully. “They don’t need me anymore!”

He sounded delighted—like it was the best thing that could’ve happened.

Bai Tu and Ying Mian: “…”

After a long pause, Bai Tu muttered under his breath, “I don’t think that’s what they meant.”

Ying Mian nodded gravely. “I think so too.”

But rain was still pouring outside, and neither of them had the heart to send Xiong Liao away. After a quiet exchange of glances, Bai Tu arranged for him to stay in a vacant room near Ying Mian’s quarters.

Meanwhile, back in the White Bear Tribe—which shared a border with the Snow Rabbit Tribe—several bears gathered near Xiong Liao’s empty quarters.

One of them hesitated. “If we do this… will the leader really agree to us choosing a new one?”

The bear in front nodded. “Of course. No leader would willingly give up his position—especially one as young as Xiong Liao.”

Every tribe had its own opinions. Unlike the other Bear Tribes, the White Bear Tribe didn’t actually oppose Xiong Liao’s leadership—they were simply unhappy that their leader’s partner came from the Feather Tribe.

Feather Tribe members were rare on the Eastern Continent, and while most tribes didn’t persecute them as harshly as the Black Forest Tribe did, they still weren’t exactly welcomed. Seeing an orc form a bond with one was already unusual; but when their leader did so, it was something many couldn’t accept.

After several days of heated debate, they finally came up with a plan:
if Xiong Liao refused to choose a Bear mate, they would elect a new leader to force his hand.

Feeling confident, a few of them went to Xiong Liao’s cave early the next morning, ready to question him about his “decision.”

But when they arrived, the cave was empty.

They stared at each other in confusion.

Where was their leader?

Where was Xiong Liao?

Just then, Ying Qin happened to pass by. Seeing their dumbfounded faces, he couldn’t resist mocking them mercilessly.

“You’re never satisfied,” he sneered. “You told Xiong Liao he couldn’t choose someone from the Feather Tribe, only a Bear. Well, congratulations—your leader’s gone. Go find your Bear mate now!”

The group was stunned into silence. Once they realized their leader had actually disappeared, all their earlier bluster melted into regret.

While the White Bear Tribe scrambled to figure out what to do, Xiong Liao—completely unaware of the chaos he’d left behind—had already settled comfortably into his new quarters beside Ying Mian and thrown himself into “helping out.”

A good mate, he decided, should handle everything.

So he began with the most important thing—cooking.

“Mian, what do you want to eat?” he asked brightly.

In the past, he’d always brought over ready-made food from his tribe to save time. But now that he was here, he could cook fresh meals and serve them straight to Ying Mian.

Ying Mian didn’t even look up. “I’ll eat in the cafeteria.”

The Snow Rabbit Tribe—and the Blood Wolf Tribe before it—both had public cafeterias. Now that the two tribes had merged, a cafeteria was never far, no matter where one lived.

But Xiong Liao looked dejectedly at the backpack he’d carried over. It was stuffed full of fruit he’d gathered himself. Refusing to give up, he brightened again and asked, “Mian, how about some fruit? These are really sweet!”

He couldn’t afford to waste a single chance.
Ying Mian’s new mate must be watching him from somewhere, right? If he didn’t act fast, what if that mysterious rival tried to snatch Ying Mian away?

Driven by that thought, Xiong Liao clung to every moment he could spend with Ying Mian. Between bouts of anxious flattery, he alternated between bad-mouthing Ying Mian’s “new partner” and boasting proudly about the cubs Ying Mian had hatched—completely unaware that every word out of his mouth was making things worse.

At first, Ying Mian’s expression flickered with discomfort. Eventually, it hardened into indifference.
No matter what Xiong Liao said, he simply ignored him.

Meanwhile, Xiong Liao remained blissfully oblivious that his so-called compliments were actually insults.

Three days later, a group of orcs from the White Bear Tribe finally arrived at the Snow Rabbit Tribe—hoping to persuade their missing leader to come home.

That “threat” they’d made before—

“If you don’t take a Bear mate, we’ll choose a new leader!”
—had been nothing more than an empty bluff!

No one actually wanted a new leader.

Sure, a few ambitious orcs had entertained the thought, but Xiong Liao was still the strongest among them. He’d been hunting since before he came of age, always bringing back more prey than anyone else. He was dependable, powerful, and experienced. In truth, the tribe couldn’t afford to lose him.

They had only meant to scare him a little—who could have imagined that Xiong Liao would take their words so seriously?

At first, they assumed he’d return on his own after cooling off. But as the rainy season drew to a close and there was still no sign of him, they finally decided to swallow their pride and go after him.

Embarrassment aside, finding their leader came first.

By the time they reached the Snow Rabbit Tribe, they quickly realized where he’d been all along.

Xiong Liao, the center of all this commotion, was still preoccupied with an entirely different concern: finding Ying Mian’s new mate.

It had been three whole days, and he still hadn’t seen this mysterious person.

Not only did Ying Mian have five cubs already, but his “new mate” seemed completely unconcerned—how could he not even show up once?

Xiong Liao was burning with anxiety, but he refused to ask Ying Mian directly.
Wouldn’t that make him look like a fool? What kind of mate couldn’t even figure out something that obvious?

And so, he endured three long days of silent torment, suspiciously eyeing everyone who so much as glanced at Ying Mian.

When Bai Tu stopped by to check on Ying Mian, Xiong Liao eyed him with barely disguised hostility.
When Ying Mian handed the cubs over to Hei Xiao for care, he grew suspicious again.
Even when Lang Ze came over to deliver a message, Xiong Liao’s stare made him bristle.

Later, an irritated Lang Ze complained to Bai Tu, “He kept staring at me!”

Bai Tu sighed, gently combing a cub’s fur. “He looks at everyone that way,” he said. “I noticed yesterday.”

Thinking back to what Ying Mian had told him, Bai Tu fell silent for a moment.

He never would’ve guessed that one careless sentence from Ying Mian could send Xiong Liao running nearly eighteen miles to a different tribe.

A normal orc—upon hearing that his partner had laid eggs—would at least ask questions:
“How many months?”
“How long have they been incubating?”
But Xiong Liao? He’d managed to misunderstand everything.

Even when Ying Mian had hinted that the cubs’ father wasn’t from the Feather Tribe, Xiong Liao had somehow made things worse—his suspicion growing so wildly that even Bai Tu himself had become one of the “suspects.”

Lang Ze rolled his eyes. “That’s just stupid.”

He wasn’t one for complex reasoning himself, but his packmates were experts at gathering gossip. Young wolves always had their ways.
Between their numbers and persistence, there was no secret they couldn’t dig up. Lang Zuo once even set a record—spending half the night crouched on a wall to spy on a meeting.

So Lang Ze already knew perfectly well that the cubs were Xiong Liao’s.
Seeing him still clueless after three whole days only filled him with disdain.

Bai Tu and Lang Qi exchanged glances, caught between amusement and pity.

To Lang Ze, an orc with both a partner and cubs—yet too dense to recognize them—was beneath contempt, especially since Xiong Liao wasn’t much older than he was.

When Lang Ze finished ranting, he trotted off to water the yard. Bai Tu watched him go, shaking his head helplessly.

By their age, young orcs like Bai Qi and Bao Duo had already begun looking for mates.
The young wolves, on the other hand, spent their days playing, eating, and lazing about. They could entertain themselves for half a day with a simple pulley system. None of them seemed remotely concerned with adulthood.

Lang Ze had no intention of finding a partner anytime soon. After a while, he started poking around the kitchen, sniffing the food, then climbed over the wall to find Lang Ya.

Lang Ya, though the same age, was far more mature. She had recently been assigned to lead the salt-making team—a decision Bai Tu had made after confirming that the others were adapting well. It turned out to be the right choice. Lang Ya was steady and responsible, never slipping up or leaking information.

Lately, everyone had been meeting more often, taking advantage of their free time. The main reason was that Lang Sui and Lang Ying would soon be entering kindergarten. Once the cubs started classes, they wouldn’t see each other as often during the day, so the adults tried to let them spend more time together while they could.

Bai Tu loved combing the cubs’ fur, and the cubs adored it too. His gentle strokes always lulled them into blissful sleep, their little eyes half-closed in contentment.

While the cubs slept, the adults devoured their dinner, leaving behind only the lingering aroma of food in the air.

When Lang Sui woke and caught a whiff, he immediately shifted into human form and pointed eagerly at the dishes. “Food! Food!”

Bai Tu chuckled, slipping a bib over him. “Yes, yes—food,” he said warmly, then handed him a bowl prepared specially for the cubs. “Here, eat this.”

Lang Sui took a bite, frowned, and glanced at the other dishes on the table. “No.”

“What’s wrong?” Bai Tu asked, sneaking in another spoonful.

Lang Sui didn’t refuse—it wasn’t in his nature—but the food didn’t taste as good as it smelled. He peeked again at the plates nearby, his little nose twitching.

Bai Tu quickly winked at Lang Qi to move the dishes out of sight, then scooped up a spoonful from the cub’s bowl and stirred it around. “Try this one.”

Lang Sui took another bite. Still not quite right. Had he imagined the smell?

Bai Tu smiled. “Daddy made this just for you. Isn’t it delicious? Eat quickly before your brothers wake up and steal it.”

Half-convinced, Lang Sui kept eating—but the thought lingered: why didn’t Daddy’s cooking taste as good as it smelled?

It wasn’t just him. The other cubs had noticed too.

“That’s it,” Bai Tu said to Lang Qi later that night. “Next time, we’ll have to eat before the cubs wake up.”

The cubs’ meals were made with the same ingredients, but without strong seasonings—no chili, no cumin, nothing that might upset their throats. A bit less here, a bit milder there, and the flavor inevitably turned bland. It wasn’t bad, just… different.

Unfortunately, cubs had sharp noses. They could smell the richer aroma of the adults’ dishes and grow suspicious, hesitating before eating. Bai Tu worried that if it kept up, they’d soon realize they were being fed “inferior” food.

It wasn’t always a blessing for cubs to be too smart.
Sometimes he wished he could share just a little of that intelligence with Xiong Liao—maybe then, that fool would finally figure things out.

As that thought passed, Bai Tu suddenly remembered the group of White Bear orcs. Had they managed to convince Xiong Liao to return?

He got his answer the next morning.

Bai An came knocking early, looking both exasperated and amused.

“The orcs from the White Bear Tribe want to join our tribe,” he said.

Bai Tu blinked. “…What?”

Hadn’t they insisted they would drag their leader home no matter what? Why were they staying instead?

“They ate in the cafeteria last night,” Bai An explained. “After the meal, they decided they wanted to join. If it hadn’t been so late, they would’ve come knocking right then.”

Bai Tu rubbed his temples. “What were they serving last night?”

Bai An hesitated, then said, “Honey barbecue.”

Bai Tu: “…”

So the polar bears were won over by honey.