Building a Civilization and Raising Cubs in the Beast World – Chapter 139

When Bai Luo first escaped, everyone believed he would someday return with allies to rescue them. But as the years passed, no rescue ever came.

As sub-beastmen, they all knew how difficult it was simply to survive outside, let alone gather the strength to save others. What began as hope slowly eroded into resignation—though a few still clung stubbornly to that faint glimmer of faith, waiting for a day that never came.

Bai Luo never returned.
And life for the remaining sub-beasts only grew worse.

Wu Jiu spared the sub-beasts and female orcs, but not out of mercy—it was simply because they were more useful.

The ones who suffered most were the cubs. Any child born between a sub-beast and a female orc was taken away immediately. No one knew where those cubs went, and they never found their way back. Wu Jiu himself knew little beyond what the guards reported: only a handful of the taken cubs had survived.

The cubs Bai Tu had recently found were among those secretly sent out by the imprisoned sub-beasts. Before the Black Forest Tribe was attacked, the pregnant sub-beasts and female orcs had been confined to a specific cave—the same one later used to imprison the Serpent Tribe.

Their claws were too weak for serious digging, and the work was grueling. Still, to mislead their captors, they extended the tunnel after the escape route was completed, making it appear like a failed attempt at breaking free. Even if the Black Forest orcs discovered the tunnel, they would never realize another, hidden passage lay beyond.

Whenever multiple cubs were born, the sub-beasts would quietly send one away through the tunnel, offering it a small shelter outside. New mothers often paused several times in grief and fear before releasing their children into the darkness.

In this way, they managed to smuggle a few cubs to safety, delivering food when possible. Miraculously, they went undetected—but not every attempt succeeded, and not every cub survived.

Sub-beast cubs, by nature, love plants. It’s said that as they grow, they instinctively learn to forage. The mothers prayed that this instinct would keep them alive. Recently, with Wu Jiu distracted by other matters, the guards’ vigilance slackened, giving the sub-beasts a few rare chances. They sent out more cubs—fifteen in total. Two perished. Thirteen survived.

From their accounts, Bai Tu pieced together the rest.
The Serpent Tribe had found one of the false tunnels and, mistaking it for an escape route, had been captured instead. Bai Tu later uncovered the real passage, following it together with the Rabbit Tribe until they found the cubs—proving that not all sub-beasts had lost their sanity.

Some had indeed gone mad—like the one who laughed uncontrollably when Bai Tu revealed he was Bai Luo’s son. Others only pretended to be insane, knowing that anyone who appeared calm and clever would be the first to die. Feigning madness was the only way to survive.

Bai Luo had been gone for over twenty years.
Most of those who’d helped him escape were long dead. The ones remaining were younger, raised on stories of his courage. To them, Bai Luo was not just a person—he was hope itself.

Reason told them he must be dead. Even the orcs Wu Jiu sent to investigate found no trace of him. But they couldn’t let go. They needed that dream, however hollow, just to keep breathing.

The long years in the Black Forest Tribe had made them wary of everyone. Even when Bai Tu—another sub-beast—appeared before them, they didn’t trust him. Some among them had even been persuaded by the Black Forest orcs to help spread the tribe’s twisted ideology. They preached to their own kind and to the female orcs in neighboring caves, insisting that the good of the tribe came before all else—that their cubs’ lives were acceptable sacrifices.

But what was “selfishness,” really?
Was it selfish to want one’s cub to live?
Or was it selflessness to give up your life—and your child’s—for a cause that only benefited your captors?

Some sub-beasts, heartbreakingly, were moved by these poisonous arguments. They convinced themselves that bearing cubs for the tribe’s use was noble.

To Bai Tu, this was a horrifying redefinition of sacrifice.

He and Hei Xiao had known very little about Bai Luo. All they knew was that he’d once lived in the Black Eagle Tribe, had later been captured by the Red Eagle Tribe, and had ultimately taken his own life rather than be sent back to the Black Forest Tribe.

No one knew how he had escaped the Black Forest Tribe in the first place, nor who his other father was. The sub-beasts here didn’t know either. The mystery remained.

Bai Tu could tell they were holding something back—hesitant, uncertain. But he didn’t press them. This was their first honest conversation in decades; if they weren’t ready to tell everything, he would give them time. There would be other chances once they were safe.

For now, their recovery came first.

“The rainy season is coming soon,” Bai Tu told them. “We can’t stay here much longer. In five days at most, we’ll have to head back to the tribes. Which group will you travel with?”

To minimize births, the imprisoned sub-beasts and female orcs had deliberately eaten less over the years, keeping themselves weak but barely alive. Wu Jiu hadn’t dared to use drugs on them—whether out of superstition or caution—so he relied instead on threats and false promises. Some were fooled, but most resisted quietly.

If they didn’t regain their strength soon, even leaving the caves would be impossible, let alone the journey home. But staying was not an option either.

After the Black Forest Tribe’s defeat, Lang Qi immediately organized multiple hunting teams to replenish supplies. The Black Forest’s lands, however, proved alarmingly barren. The prey they found could barely sustain a few mid-sized tribes.

That imbalance was unnatural.

Under questioning, Hu Wan explained that hunting had already been difficult two years ago—and this year, it was nearly impossible. Stray orcs and captured members of the Black Forest Tribe admitted that Wu Jiu had been confiscating most of the food the raiders stole, hoarding it for himself.

Life in the tribe had been far worse than anyone outside had realized. Wu Jiu, Bao Ren, and their followers had built their power on the endless suffering of the weak—forcing low-ranked orcs to hunt day and night, even as prey grew scarcer. And still, they schemed to lure in more tribes, bleeding every last one dry.

The stray orcs would bring food and loot from their raids. When a tribe was lured into joining, it would contribute its own stores. Wu Jiu fed his people with scavenged scraps and narcotic-laced rations, turning a profit even on starvation.

It was a system destined to collapse.
The more they consumed, the faster the land emptied. The more tribes joined, the less prey there was to go around. Yet none of them cared—so long as they could take, they didn’t think of what would happen when there was nothing left to take from.

The Black Forest’s territory was no longer fit for life.

When Bai Tu and Lang Qi announced their departure, those rescued—both orcs and sub-beasts—chose the tribes they would follow. Some returned to familiar clans. Others, with nowhere left, decided to go with Bai Tu’s group.

“We’ll go back with you,” Bai Chi said after a moment of hesitation.

Bai Tu nodded. He had no reason to refuse.

But their troubles weren’t over. There were still the missing cubs—the ones Wu Jiu had taken for his twisted experiments. His methods were disturbingly similar to Wu Lai’s, both using the blood of cubs for their so-called rituals. Yet the Black Forest Tribe’s scale was larger, its cruelty deeper. Few cubs had survived.

Those who did were pitifully weak, just like the ones Bai Tu had rescued from the Red Eagle Tribe—frail, skeletal, too quiet even to cry.

“What were they trying to achieve?” Bai Tu muttered, frowning.

Ever since the Red Eagle Tribe incident, he had sensed something dark in the witch doctors’ obsession with cubs and sub-beasts. Now, that feeling was undeniable. The rumor that a cub’s blood could grant the power of the Beast God had twisted into a nightmare—driving witch doctors like Wu Jiu to imprison and slaughter the innocent.

He even suspected Wu Jiu had deliberately spread the superstition that sub-beasts brought disaster, just to justify capturing them. Female orcs could still fight back in beast form; some were as strong as males. Sub-beasts, fragile even in their beast forms, were the easiest prey.

But all of this remained speculation. Wu Jiu had never allowed anyone near his work. Now half-paralyzed and mute, he couldn’t even confess if he wanted to.

Bai Chi’s lips twitched, as though he wanted to speak—but in the end, he stayed silent.

Their generation had nearly perished in the darkness. Being rescued by Bai Tu was already more than they’d ever dreamed. Whatever truths remained buried in that cave could stay there forever.

Under the sub-beasts’ persuasion, the imprisoned female orcs finally began to relax. The kindness they’d received over the past few days proved this was no deception—no trick of the Black Forest Tribe.

Once order was restored, Bai Tu and Lang Qi addressed the next question: which tribes would take responsibility for the rescued orcs and cubs?

Each tribe was allowed to bring back a few Black Forest orcs for hard labor, as well as some of those deceived into joining. After the rainy season, they would reconvene to decide whether those orcs could stay or leave.

That was when someone suddenly remembered.

“Our tribe… has a witch doctor.”

“Ours too…”

The realization spread like wildfire.

A few days ago, they had rallied together in righteous fury to destroy the Black Forest Tribe. Now, a chilling thought took hold—what if their own witch doctors were connected to Wu Jiu?

There was a time when the orcs of the Eastern Continent revered witch doctors as second only to the Beast God. Now, fear had replaced reverence. Healing had become a business—one where every potion and every treatment came at a price.

And after what they’d just witnessed in the Black Forest, none of them could shake the same, terrible suspicion:

Had their own witch doctors been poisoning them all along?

Yet this suspicion clashed with everything the orcs had long believed. Many were torn—witch doctors were the highest-ranking figures on the Beast God Continent, revered almost like the Beast God’s own envoys—how could any of them be villains? And yet, those linked to Wu Jiu clearly were.

“A witch doctor who harms cubs is no good person,” Bai Tu said flatly. “And one who extorts the tribe for more supplies isn’t good either. The medicine used by the witch doctors across the Eastern Continent all comes from Wu Jiu. I know the recipes myself—if you need medicine, just come trade with our tribe.”

To Bai Tu, this matter was simple enough.

Wu Jiu’s scheme had been to concoct his own medicine, then sell it to witch doctors—nominally his ‘apprentices’—at sky-high prices. When an orc in the tribe was injured, the witch doctor would demand outrageous payments in food, sometimes several or even dozens of baskets for a single treatment.

No wonder the orcs of the Eastern Continent dreaded getting hurt. Tribes without a witch doctor couldn’t get medicine at all—if the wounds were too severe, they simply died. But tribes with a witch doctor fared little better: each injury meant losing massive stores of food. If they handed over that much meat, what would they eat the following season?

Bai Tu intended to end this exploitative cycle. Since most wounds were similar in nature—only varying in size—he could just prepare the medicine himself and sell it directly to the tribes. That way, they could treat injuries without depending on greedy witch doctors and their markups.

Wu Jiu had charged one or two baskets of food for a single dose, while the witch doctors resold the same for several times that. When Bai Tu examined Wu Jiu’s leftover medicine, he discovered it was just an ordinary wound salve made from common ingredients. With a bit of time, he could make enough for everyone.

The orcs, who had been fretting that their witch doctors might scold them for bringing back captured Black Forest orcs and the deceived wanderers, were stunned. Now they could bring the medicine back freely—no more bowing to their witch doctors’ whims.

Only a few tribes, those still deeply reverent toward their witch doctors, chose not to take strangers home.

Bai Tu didn’t mind either choice.

After lengthy discussion, they decided that nearly two thousand orcs would remain behind in the Black Forest Tribe’s territory. The land was vast, and while it couldn’t support seven or eight thousand orcs, feeding two thousand was manageable.

Among them, six or seven hundred had no familiar tribes and preferred not to follow strangers into unknown lands. Some Black Forest orcs who were difficult to relocate also stayed.

Though they all stayed, their treatment differed. The Tiger Tribe, led by Hu Wan, and a few others bound the more troublesome orcs with chains and tools, forcing them to labor and stripping away their freedom.

Those who left with familiar tribes brought along some of the Black Forest orcs as well. Bai Tu suggested that for every orc who had been deceived into joining the tribe, two Black Forest orcs should accompany them—one to do the work, while the other received treatment equal to the tribe’s own orcs.

This arrangement served not only to punish the Black Forest orcs but also to keep them under watch. The resentment between the tribes ran deep; as long as those they had once oppressed were nearby, the Black Forest orcs wouldn’t dare deceive another tribe.

Many of the Black Forest orcs were dim-witted, but not all—some were dangerously cunning. If left unchecked, they might worm their way into another tribe’s trust and repeat history, turning the new tribe into another Black Forest. Bai Tu refused to let that happen, so the task of supervision fell to the orcs they had once tormented. The roles of predator and prey had now reversed.

As for the sub-beasts, all of them chose to leave with Bai Tu. He also brought along the Serpent Tribe and the surviving medicine men and cubs. They were difficult to manage, and Bai Tu felt uneasy letting them out of his sight.

Once the people were settled, the next task was gathering supplies. Over the years, Wu Jiu had amassed a staggering hoard through his monopoly on medicine, while Bao Ren had done the same by extorting wandering orcs and newcomers. Compared to them, even Wu Lai’s plunder seemed insignificant—several entire caves were stuffed full of food. Some of it had been caught and prepared by orcs of Hu Wan’s rank; some had been looted from other tribes.

Two-thirds of this food and various tools were distributed among the tribes, with the rest left for those staying behind in the Black Forest.

The hardest decision concerned the medicine—something everyone desired, yet no one dared to touch.

They wanted the medicine—after all, even the strongest orcs were sometimes injured while hunting—but they feared it might be poisoned. They had all seen what happened to those who’d taken the tainted drugs. The orcs deceived into joining the Black Forest Tribe had fallen the sickest; those who had used the medicine repeatedly suffered less, and those who’d only taken it once still felt weak at times.

Having traveled together, everyone knew the symptoms of poisoning by now. None dared to touch the remaining medicine. What if it was tainted? Best to stay away.

Bai Tu noticed the crowd’s yearning mixed with hesitation. After thinking it over, he gathered all the medicine and told everyone he would take it with him—then handed out a supply of safe medicine to each tribe.

Each received roughly the same amount, and since Bai Tu’s medicine was harmless, everyone readily accepted.

They trusted him because they had seen proof: among the Snow Rabbit and Blood Wolf Tribes, none were injured, but the Black Bear Tribe—home to the Bear Group, who worked closely with Bai Qi—had suffered many wounds. After using Bai Tu’s medicine, they not only recovered swiftly but grew stronger. That was proof enough.

Once the orcs, food, medicine, and tools were distributed, everyone began preparing to return home.

Instead of heading to the marketplace as originally planned, they decided to return directly to their tribes. Over the past few days, they had already bartered among themselves—trading what their tribes lacked and exchanging surplus goods. By the time everything with the Black Forest Tribe was settled, they had replenished their own supplies as well.

With two-thirds of the Black Forest Tribe’s hoard shared, everyone returned far richer than usual. There was no longer any need for a special market trip.

The journey home was supposed to take five days, but by the fourth, everyone was ready to depart. The weather was fickle, and another day’s delay could mean marching through rain. So as soon as they packed, they set off.

Bai Tu worried most about the weakened sub-beasts and female orcs, but thankfully, they endured the trek. It took nearly ten days to travel from the Black Forest Tribe back to the Snow Rabbit Tribe.

When they finally arrived, the orcs who had stayed behind were stunned. They hadn’t even finished celebrating the group’s safe return before they saw the sheer number of unfamiliar orcs trailing behind.

“Didn’t you just go to trade supplies?” Bai Chen asked in bewilderment. “Why are there so many of you?”

“Where’s Tu? Where’s my brother? Where’s the cub?” Lang Ze burst through the crowd, having overheard the commotion about the returning team. Covered head to toe in mud except for his face, he looked like he had just crawled out of a pit.

Bai Tu was about to answer Bai Chen when Lang Ze’s arrival interrupted him. Seeing the mud-plastered orc, Bai Tu was briefly speechless, then signaled Bai Chen with a look that he would explain everything later. For now, he asked, “Where have you been?”

“Cement!” Lang Ze declared proudly. “I poured it north of the tribe! That way, those other tribes won’t dare to come. And look—they didn’t show up today!”

Bai Tu: “…”
Could it be that no one had come simply because word spread that the salt-exchange team had returned? Still, seeing Lang Ze’s excitement, he decided not to dampen his spirits.

“Go wash up first,” Bai Tu said mildly. “That cement will stick to your fur if you let it dry.”

Lang Ze nodded eagerly and ran off to clean himself, not even sparing a glance at Lang Qi.

Lang Qi: “…” So much for that “brotherly bond.”

After Lang Ze left, Bai Tu exchanged a few words with the welcoming orcs before Lang Qi’s increasingly dark expression reminded everyone that Bai Tu needed rest. They promptly ushered him back to his quarters.

Once home, Bai Tu bathed, changed into clean clothes, and went with Lang Qi to meet Bai An.

By the time they arrived, the others were already assembled. Bai Tu summoned Hei Xiao and briefly summarized the events, omitting the details about Bai Luo and the sub-beasts.

Bai Chen was surprised to see so many new arrivals, but he raised no objection. The tribe had grown busy lately, and extra hands were welcome. Besides, they had been steadily transitioning from hunting to farming over the past six months. With the crops Bai Tu had introduced, food security was no longer a worry—unlike the Black Forest Tribe.

Bai An had already approved bringing them here, and Bai Chen voiced no disagreement. Tu Bing, Tu Cai, and the others all supported the decision, and the vote was nearly unanimous.

They had agreed to take the newcomers in—but how they would live was another issue. The cave dwellings were already crowded.

“Is the second batch of houses completely dry yet?” Bai Tu asked. He hadn’t gone to inspect them after returning; they had come straight back to rest.

The residential area had been built in phases. Bai Tu was referring to the second batch—if those were ready, they could move in right away.

Lang Ze, who had checked most recently, nodded. “They’re dry. We can move in now.”

Bai Tu thought for a moment. “Then let’s move while the rain’s still light.”

Originally, he had planned to wait until before winter to relocate, but the orcs’ construction speed had far exceeded his expectations. The houses he thought would need more time had already been finished, complete with paved roads and drainage ditches as he had designed.

To make the rainy season more livable, Bai Tu had designed the houses with waterproofing in mind. Each house was elevated above the surrounding road surface, and both roads and homes had drainage channels leading to the nearby river—no risk of waterlogging.

Living in these houses was far more convenient than caves. The caves had always been dug into the earth, uneven and twisting, sometimes requiring long detours between nearby dwellings. The new homes, however, were laid out in straight rows, forming clear streets with designated plots. With Bai Tu’s map, anyone could find another’s house at a glance.

A light drizzle had begun the day before, a sure sign that heavy rain was near. Without wasting time, everyone began moving into their new homes that very evening.

Moving was a simple task for the Wolf and Lion Tribes. They transformed into their beast forms, hauled their belongings, and, thanks to the flat ground, didn’t even have to worry about scraping themselves on rocks. In no time, they’d carried everything to their new homes.

As for the orcs who had been rescued, they had no luggage at all—making them the easiest to relocate. Bai Tu arranged for them to stay in the reception area.

When the houses were first being built, they’d already planned for the possibility of orcs from other tribes arriving—but back then, Bai Tu had only expected visitors from the Black Eagle Tribe or orcs searching for their lost cubs. Now, however, most of those moving in were sub-beasts.

Unlike female orcs, most sub-beasts had been captured and brought to the Black Forest Tribe more than a decade ago, or were the children of those captives. Their original tribes had long since changed, leaving them nowhere to return to. Naturally, they all chose to follow Bai Tu here.

Bai Tu arranged housing for the orcs, then sent Bai Qi to help settle the sub-beasts and the orcs from the Black Bear Tribe. Afterward, he and Hei Xiao returned to the cave to discuss the matter of Bai Luo.

Hei Xiao hadn’t realized that Bai Luo had once been captured by the Black Forest Tribe. Neither Bai Luo nor any of the sub-beasts had ever mentioned it to him.

After thinking quietly for a while, Hei Xiao said, “You stay here and look after the eggs. I’ll return to the tribe for a bit.”
He wanted to question the sub-beasts there about what had happened before Bai Luo joined the tribe.

Bai Tu immediately stopped him. “The rainy season’s about to start!”

It wasn’t just ground-dwellers who struggled to travel during the rainy season—even the Feather Tribes suffered. Heavy rain blurred visibility, making it easy to crash into obstacles, and even flying higher wasn’t safe. Rainwater soaked into their feathers, weighing their wings down; flying the same distance in a storm took several times the energy compared to clear weather.

And on the Beast God Continent, the rainy season wasn’t gentle—it was torrential, unending downpours that turned everything into a quagmire. Traveling under those conditions? You wouldn’t even be able to light a campfire to rest.

Bai Tu was just as eager as Hei Xiao to uncover the past, but not at the cost of his safety.

“Yan will be here soon,” Bai Tu added. Hei Yan rarely stayed away from Hei Xiao for long. This time, he had taken a group to the market to trade supplies. The southern continent’s market schedules were similar to those in the east—judging by the Eagle Tribe’s speed, Hei Yan should be arriving any day now.

Bai Tu didn’t dare imagine Hei Yan’s reaction if he showed up only to find Hei Xiao gone. With Hei Yan’s temper, he might very well tear the entire tribe apart in his fury.

In the end, Hei Xiao relented and agreed to stay put—but secretly resolved to return to the tribe as soon as the rainy season ended.

The orcs in the Snow Rabbit Tribe were skilled in caring for young cubs. They treated the rescued sub-beasts and their children with exceptional gentleness. After all, they were cubs—and the sub-beasts looked so fragile. Moreover, these sub-beasts shared Bai Tu’s status, so it was only natural for the tribe to show them extra kindness.

At first, the sub-beasts were anxious about living in a new tribe. But when they saw that several of the Snow Rabbit Tribe’s leaders were also rabbits—and that Bai Tu, no matter how busy, still made time to check on their meals and living conditions—their fears slowly melted away.

After two days, they began to notice something: Bai Tu’s role in the tribe was far greater than they’d imagined. Nearly every important matter seemed to go through him.

They realized that the more influence Bai Tu held, the safer they were. Still, along with their gratitude came a trace of unease. Was Bai Tu working this hard because he’d brought them here? Had their arrival become a burden to him?

When a tribe member came by with food, a few sub-beasts asked worriedly, “Is Tu busy again today?”

It was Tu Mu delivering the meal. When Bai Tu was too busy, he entrusted Tu Mu with preparing food for the sub-beasts and cubs. Though Tu Mu wasn’t an expert in nutrition, he followed Bai Tu’s instructions carefully, adding variety and making sure the food was easy to digest—especially important for those who had gone hungry for so long.

Tu Mu loved watching others enjoy his cooking, but this time, the sub-beasts didn’t eat right away. Instead, they peppered him with questions about Bai Tu’s workload. To anyone in the tribe, that alone was strange—no one ever delayed eating unless something was seriously on their mind.

Tu Mu scratched his ear awkwardly. “Of course he’s busy. He hasn’t even had lunch yet.”

Hearing that, the sub-beasts grew even more worried. Bai Tu had promised them safety and food—but at what cost to himself? Wouldn’t this pace exhaust him completely?

And indeed, Bai Tu was busy. The wheat they’d planted after last spring had ripened and been harvested before the rescue team returned—but before it could dry, the rains began.

Knowing that the harvested wheat was still piled up in the cave, Bai Tu immediately ordered everyone to spread it out to dry. Undried grain spoiled easily in the humid air, especially when heaped together. One careless day could ruin the entire crop.

It wasn’t just wheat; other harvests also needed drying. Thankfully, since most orcs had moved into their new homes, many caves were now empty—perfect for use as drying rooms once they were properly waterproofed.

As for the crops still growing in the fields, Bai Tu noticed that the drainage ditches weren’t sufficient. He had two additional channels dug, ensuring that no matter how heavy the rain, the excess water would flow out safely.

Crops were even more vulnerable to the rain than orcs—at least orcs could take shelter. The settlements were mostly ready, and with Bai An and the others helping, Bai Tu felt reassured enough to focus all his attention on the fields these past two days.

Their trips to the market had taken over twenty days, and the tribe’s food supply had multiplied several times over. Besides the spring wheat, they now had potatoes and sweet potatoes.

The sweet potatoes, which Bai Tu had been eagerly waiting for, were finally ready to eat. Whether it was the fertile soil or just luck, the yield far exceeded expectations. Though sweet potatoes tasted best after resting for a few days, Bai Tu couldn’t wait.

That evening, after finishing his work, Bai Tu told Lang Qi, “Bring me half a basket of sweet potatoes. Let’s roast them—and make mashed sweet potatoes for the cubs.”

He’d been craving roasted sweet potatoes since winter but hadn’t indulged, too busy with farming and rebuilding. Now, finally, he could.

Lang Qi, hearing the anticipation in Bai Tu’s voice, didn’t bother with half a basket—he grabbed the whole thing.

“No need for that many,” Bai Tu protested with a laugh. “Even the best food gets old if you eat too much.”

Lang Qi raised an eyebrow. “You forgot about Ze.”

Bai Tu: “…”

Right—Lang Ze. When he’d chosen his house, he’d picked the one right next to theirs. The moment Bai Tu lit the fire, Lang Ze would smell it and come running.

Bai Tu glanced at the basket, hesitated, and muttered, “Maybe bring another one.”

Lang Qi agreed and fetched a second basket.

So, with Bai Tu carrying the cubs and Lang Qi carrying sweet potatoes, the two walked leisurely through the damp evening. Along the way, they passed orcs returning from work, all greeting them cheerfully, their voices brimming with warmth and vitality.

Everything in the tribe was thriving. Bai Tu looked back at the bustling figures and couldn’t help but smile. The lingering heaviness that had followed him since leaving the Black Forest Tribe finally began to fade.

The tribe was growing stronger day by day—proof that their efforts hadn’t been in vain. As for people like Wu Jiu and Bao Ren… sooner or later, justice would find them.

When they reached home, Lang Qi set up their barbecue grill while Bai Tu arranged the sweet potatoes over the fire. Ground-baked sweet potatoes tasted best, but the soil outside was too wet from the day’s drizzle to light a fire properly.

Still, as the sweet aroma began to fill the air, Bai Tu felt content. Even if they weren’t perfect, these were the roasted sweet potatoes he’d been dreaming of.

While the sweet potatoes cooked, he went inside to prepare food for the cubs. Sweet potato purée was simple enough—no need to worry about shape or size. He peeled the washed tubers, cut them into small pieces, steamed them, and mashed them with a spoon. A wholesome meal, ready in minutes.

He didn’t add anything else to the cubs’ food; they’d have another feeding before bed. Their appetites had grown since the market trip—especially the two older cubs, who were clearly growing fast.

By the time the sweet potatoes were steaming, a few cubs had already woken up. Knowing that what their father was holding was food for them, they sat obediently on their little beds, eyes bright with excitement.

To make things easier, Bai Tu had asked the carpenter to add wheels to the cubs’ cradle beds. That way, he could roll them out for feeding instead of carrying them one by one—much more convenient.

When the purée was ready, Bai Tu washed his hands and tied bibs around the cubs’ necks to keep them clean. Seeing the bibs, the cubs wriggled with delight—they knew mealtime was coming.

Lang Qi adjusted the sweet potatoes on the grill, then joined Bai Tu inside. They usually fed the cubs together—though the older two could already eat on their own, it was faster and more fun as a pair.

Bai Tu preferred spoon-feeding them purée rather than letting them eat solid chunks themselves. It was gentler on their tiny stomachs.

Just as they were about to start feeding, a knock came from the door.

It was Bai Chi.

Since he was one of their own, Bai Tu called for him to come in. The Snow Rabbit Tribe was peaceful, especially in their three-story residential area, and doors were rarely locked during the day—only at night for quiet.

Bai Chi stepped inside, paused at the sight of the firepit and the food spread out in the courtyard, and froze when he saw Bai Tu spoon-feeding the cubs.

When he didn’t speak for a long moment, Bai Tu turned his head. “Chi, what’s wrong?”

Bai Chi’s expression twisted into guilt. “Tu… I’m sorry.”

Bai Tu blinked. “What?”

He looked utterly baffled.

Bai Chi sighed deeply. “I should have realized it sooner. After saving so many people, of course you’d be struggling. Now… even your food’s gone.”

Bai Tu: “???”

What on earth were these sub-beasts imagining this time?