Building a Civilization and Raising Cubs in the Beast World – Chapter 146

Chapter 146

“Not lively?” Bai Tu bent down, picked up the two cubs, and shook the toy in his hand, teasing them as he asked, “Alright, which one?”

The cat who had spoken earlier: “…”

The cat who was holding the third cub to keep it from escaping: “…”

Both fell silent. The three cubs—two in Bai Tu’s arms and the one being held—were behaving completely differently from how they did back in the tribe. If they hadn’t been watching the whole time, they would’ve suspected these weren’t even their cubs.

Receiving no answer, Bai Tu looked from the cubs back to the two orcs. “Hmm? Which one isn’t lively?” He glanced at the cub held in the cat’s arms and held the toy out toward it.

“That one…” The lead cat hesitated, staring at the cubs already wriggling happily in Bai Tu’s arms.

Since no one could give a clear answer, Bai Tu examined the three cubs himself. After checking them over, he said, puzzled, “They look perfectly fine.” He didn’t see anything wrong. So which cub were they talking about? Was there another one they hadn’t brought out?

The cats exchanged bewildered looks until the one who had spoken with Tu Cai finally explained, “They don’t move at all when they’re in the tribe.” He wasn’t sure why, but they were definitely different back home.

Another added, “They won’t even budge when they’re outside… except just now…”

One after another, they began to explain. Cat cubs were incredibly energetic when young, and these were at the most active age. Normally, they should be sprinting around the tribe every day. But ever since winter ended, these cubs had become unusually quiet, hardly moving at all.

A day or two of this would’ve been fine, but they’d barely left the cave for weeks. The adult orcs began to worry the cubs were sick.

In the past two years, the White Cat Tribe had only birthed around ten cubs. Several disappeared last year, and the remaining ones had since been guarded with great care, fed with whatever the tribe could find. But now three of them seemed “ill,” throwing the entire tribe into panic.

For the cubs’ sake, a group of orcs who hadn’t left the tribe since their failed attempt to search for their lost kin decided to venture out again to find a witch doctor.

But when they left home, they discovered that many tribes rumored to have witch doctors no longer had anyone left. Whenever someone mentioned their witch doctors, their expressions grew strange, but no one explained what had happened.

The White Cat Tribe seldom traveled and sometimes skipped the market for a year or two, so they had no idea about these changes. The news only heightened their anxiety. The cubs couldn’t wait. They had to seek help.

Eventually, they learned how to reach the Snow Rabbit Tribe, and followed the directions they were given. On the way, they heard that the Snow Rabbit Tribe had rescued cubs from the Red Eagle Tribe—and that stirred the tribe’s emotions even more.

They had wanted to come together, but their strength wasn’t equal, and food was scarce. To reach the Snow Rabbit Tribe sooner, they split into two groups. One group—stronger and faster—departed first with the three cubs and what little food the tribe had. The rest followed behind at a slower pace, hunting as they traveled to sustain themselves.

But the moment they finally arrived… the cubs were suddenly acting completely normal.

“You stopped being lively after winter?” Bai Tu repeated thoughtfully. “Is there enough food in your tribe?”

The lead cat looked uneasy but answered seriously, “Not much… but we always make sure the cubs eat enough every day.”

Bai Tu nodded. Prey had dwindled everywhere across the Beast God Continent—it wasn’t targeted at any tribe. And these cubs were clearly well cared for. They didn’t look sick.

Could their lethargy simply be from… boredom? Bai Tu rubbed one of the cubs. Immediately, the cub latched onto his hand with tiny teeth. Pulling back his hand, he watched the cub chase and paw at him—completely different from the behavior the cats had described.

The cat orcs stared at the suddenly energetic cub scrambling around in Bai Tu’s arms. They didn’t ask again whether the cub was sick.

Of course, they all hoped the cubs were healthy. And seeing how lively they were now, they felt even more reassured.

Bai Tu played with them a little more before asking, “What do you usually feed them?”

“Chicken, duck, pork, beef, venison, fish…” The cats listed off whatever prey passed through their remote territory.

That was normal. Most Eastern Continent tribes ate that way. Bai Tu knew several cat orcs from the market, and even his own tribe had cats—they weren’t picky.

If everything was fine, why had they stopped moving?

His eyes drifted to the toy in his hand. A thought struck him, and he asked, “Do you still have many chickens or ducks left in your territory?”

“Not many,” the lead cat said, when suddenly a much younger cat—seventeen or eighteen—blurted out, “There aren’t any left.”

Adult orcs preferred hunting large prey to feed the tribe, but young adult cats like him preferred agile prey—basically chickens and ducks. They called it “hunting,” but in reality they were mostly playing.

Now food was scarce. Adults were worried about future meals, and the youth were even more devastated—because all their “playthings” were gone.

The young man stared at the toy in Bai Tu’s hand with intense longing. He opened his fingers, then clenched them again, fighting the urge to pounce on it. But the moment Bai Tu waved the toy, the feathers flashed, and he visibly trembled with restraint.

What should he do? He still desperately wanted to grab it.

Bai Tu waved the toy in front of the cubs, and as they leaped to grab it with lightning speed, he felt almost certain.

“The cubs aren’t sick. They’re just bored. With no chickens or ducks outside anymore, they don’t want to go out at all.”

They were probably suffocating from a life with nothing fun to do. And given how cautious the White Cat Tribe was with their cubs, they likely didn’t even wake them unless necessary. Naturally, the cubs had no motivation to move.

In short—they were bored to death.

“Make more of these toys when you go back,” Bai Tu said. “I’ll teach everyone later.” He already planned to teach Tu Cai; now was the perfect time to include the cats.

The cats were immediately relieved that the cubs weren’t sick—but their thoughts quickly shifted.

“We heard on the way… that the Snow Rabbit Tribe rescued cubs…” one of them said tentatively.

To the cats, the lost cubs were just as important as the ones before them. They had been ecstatic when they heard the lost cubs might be here. Now that their own were healthy, they were anxious about the others.

Bai Tu didn’t tease them and instead led them toward the cub nursery.

So many people couldn’t go inside at once, so he turned and asked, “Who here is related to the cubs?”

Blood relatives could identify their young easily by scent. As for the two white kittens clinging to him now, Bai Tu simply played with them—they had been in the tribe for a long time.

“I am.”

“Me too.”

Five cat orcs stepped forward. One waited until the others spoke before saying, “I’m the older sister of one cub’s mother. She’s slow and won’t arrive until tomorrow.”

“Try identifying them first,” Bai Tu said. He wasn’t sure whether the family scent would still work, but since the mother’s sister and the missing cubs had been together originally, they should at least share familiarity.

Unexpectedly, all six missing cubs matched perfectly with the White Cat Tribe members who came.

“The kittens are clever,” Bai Tu said, rubbing the heads of the slightly shy cubs being reunited with their families.

Cat cubs were quick to adapt. Since they had been caught not long before the Red Eagle Tribe brought them here, their injuries were minor aside from a bit of fright.

But after living in the Snow Rabbit Tribe for so long, their personalities had changed completely. They now climbed and hopped all day long—and were among the most active cubs here.

Though the cats had found their cubs, Bai Tu didn’t let them take the cubs out immediately. Instead, he let the relatives play with them in the nursery first.

This was part of his method for confirming kinship. Real family might be timid at first, but after half a day, the cubs would naturally warm up to them. But with strangers—even after two days—they would remain wary, unless they’d spent ten to fifteen days together while being cared for.

Even the orcs who escorted the rescued cubs here had needed time to win their trust. Some cubs only fully bonded after winter passed.

Seeing their cubs healthy—and even livelier than the cubs back home—the White Cat Tribe was overjoyed. They agreed to everything Bai Tu said. The other cats waited quietly outside the door, not daring to interrupt.

Among the six cubs, two were white, and four were patterned—two tabbies and two oranges.

The cub whose mother hadn’t arrived yet was a small orange one. Its cousin—also orange—was noticeably larger than the others.

The tabby cubs were the boldest, immediately initiating play with the visiting cats. The cats, who hadn’t seen such lively kits in ages, couldn’t take their eyes off them.

The small orange cubs initially didn’t like being close to the strange cats, though their scent felt familiar. But that didn’t matter—they were more interested in food.

When one cat offered some, both orange cubs instantly perked up and dashed forward.

“They’ve loved eating since they were tiny,” the orc said with a smile. These two cubs had always been the tribe’s biggest eaters—eating nearly twice as much as others their age, practically from birth.

Bai Tu paused. They had just eaten breakfast, and yet the cubs were devouring food like little beasts—just like orange cats.

The cubs lived up to their reputation. Even if they weren’t thrilled with the taste, they still finished everything, then pawed at the orc’s fur for more.

Bai Tu was speechless. Clearly the White Cat Tribe hadn’t been starving them—who would’ve guessed they had just eaten? He wasn’t worried about misunderstandings, but he did worry the cubs might overeat.

“Don’t feed them too much,” Bai Tu warned. “They’ll get bloated.”

The cubs usually ate until they were about eighty percent full. Bai Tu had just fed two of them earlier—any more and they’d be stuffed.

The cat orc nodded. “That’s all we brought, anyway. No more.” Their tribe didn’t forbid cubs from overeating, but cubs normally stopped on their own. Except… these two had been different since—

The two had been different since they were little, but back then, the tribe didn’t have much food. After such a long journey, the adult had little left, and with two kittens needing to eat, each one could only get a small portion.

Even knowing orange cats ate more than others, Bai Tu still rubbed their heads and checked on the remaining kittens.

The white kitten was the timidest. It took a long moment before it hesitantly reached out a paw to touch the familiar-scented orc nearby. Seeing the kittens were already interacting with their kin, Bai Tu left the room quietly and went outside to teach the others how to make toys.

The kittens loved feather toys, so Bai Tu demonstrated twice in front of Tu Cai and the cat orcs.

The feathers were the ones Tu Mu had collected yesterday. After recognizing the kittens earlier, Bai Tu had brought the cats over while Tu Cai arranged for someone to wash the feathers outside. The weather today was as good as yesterday—warm and dry—so the feathers had dried quickly on the mat and were now ready to use.

Feather toys weren’t difficult to make. Choosing good-looking feathers and bundling them together was already most of the work. Matching colors wasn’t even required—Bai Tu simply felt it was prettier.

Tu Cai had made many tools already, so assembly was easy for him. The cat orcs, on the other hand, were much slower—not because they lacked skill, but because every time a feather swayed, they reflexively patted or grabbed at it. With so many involuntary paws shooting out, their speed was naturally affected.

Once Bai Tu saw that everyone had learned the basics, he turned his attention to playing with the three little cat kits. It was their first time seeing so many feather toys in one place, and they immediately went wild—jumping, pouncing, tumbling. Two fought first, then a third joined, and soon it was a chaotic furball brawl.

Near lunchtime, Bai Tu returned to check on the other kittens. They were getting along well with the adult cat orcs. The timid little white kitten even tucked himself into a nearby orc’s arms when he heard noise from outside—a sign of trust.

Satisfied, Bai Tu finally relaxed. He might feel reluctant to part with the kittens, but ultimately, staying with their families was far better. What he wanted most was for every cub to have a carefree childhood.

“Alright, go eat,” Bai Tu said, handing each family a toy. “The kittens love these.”

Not only the kittens—every cat orc seemed eager to play with them. Bai Tu thought he might as well make more next time to trade at the market. The cafeteria produced huge piles of feathers daily, and Tu Mu always struggled with how to deal with them. Turning them into toys saved cleanup effort, earned extra supplies, and gave the tribe’s idle orcs something to do. Three benefits in one.

As for why he hadn’t given the toys to the cats earlier—feather toys were far too enticing. Once they appeared, the kittens would only chase them; it would become impossible to judge whether their closeness to the orcs was genuine or just toy-driven. Only without outside distractions could their true reactions be observed.

Just then, hearing Bai Tu mention food, the White Cat Tribe’s leader, Mao Chuan, suddenly looked embarrassed.

“Tu… about the food we’re supposed to give in exchange for the kittens… could we delay it for two months?”

If Bai Tu hadn’t brought it up, he would’ve forgotten entirely.

Usually, when tribes came to pick up their cubs, they brought plenty of food and other supplies. Tribes that arrived later, having eaten most of their travel supplies, often sent additional goods afterward—sometimes even local specialties that became new crops in the Snow Rabbit Tribe.

Food offerings weren’t actually required for claiming a cub. Originally, Bai Tu only mentioned it to appease the orcs in his tribe who felt uneasy raising other tribes’ cubs “for free.”

But the situation had changed.

The cubs had stayed for over half a year. During winter, they lived in the cave; once the weather warmed, they could be seen playing outside every day. The tribe’s standard of living had improved rather than declined due to the cubs—more food, better shelter, more snacks. The orcs no longer worried about feeding extra mouths.

Bai Tu had even seen several orcs staring at departing cubs with red eyes—so reluctant that outsiders might assume they were the cubs’ real parents. In reality, they had simply helped raise the cubs for months.

Thus, neither Bai Tu nor the tribe cared whether the White Cat Tribe brought anything. What mattered was their ability to raise the cubs well.

“We’ll talk about the supplies later,” Bai Tu said mildly. He didn’t refuse; he simply delayed.

This stalling method had unexpected benefits: if they discovered a tribe treated its cubs poorly, they could take them back without hesitation. It ensured only tribes that truly cherished their cubs brought them home.

Seeing Bai Tu agree, Mao Chuan and the others visibly relaxed. They had feared Bai Tu would insist on food before allowing them to take the cubs. If that were the case, they’d have to wait months—and they had already lost precious time. For a cub, the most crucial bonding period was before age three. Missing an entire year already hurt; another delay would be unbearable.

Bai Tu watched them sigh with relief and already start planning future hunts.

He himself remembered his own supplies were running low. He should grab extra from the cafeteria for lunch; snacks were also plentiful lately, and two new varieties awaited testing by Lang Qi and the cubs. He could bring some back.

As they walked toward the cafeteria, Bai Tu gave them directions and discussed several matters.

“Since you’ve just reunited with the cubs, it’s best to stay in the tribe for a few days. Otherwise, the cubs will be frightened if suddenly taken somewhere unfamiliar.”

Even with biological parents, after such a long separation, the cubs needed time. Right now, they recognized their relatives only vaguely; real trust required more days.

Most of the cat orcs nodded immediately. Only Mao Chuan, walking in front, looked troubled.

Noticing this, Bai Tu asked, “Chuan, are you feeling unwell? Or does your tribe have urgent matters to handle?”

When other tribes came to pick up cubs, Bai Tu often asked them to stay a few days. Only nearby tribes skipped this—they lived close, had fewer rooms, and the tribe’s safety hadn’t been strong enough earlier to host guests long term.

If the White Cat Tribe had urgent matters, Bai Tu wouldn’t force them. He could arrange an escort for the cubs after a short adjustment period.

But then Mao Chuan admitted helplessly, “We’re almost out of food.”

They had traveled during the rainy season when prey was scarce. Even adults barely ate so they could feed the cubs. Their food was nearly gone.

“No food needed,” Bai Tu said casually.

Just then, they reached the cafeteria entrance. Bai Tu opened the door to let them in.

“Tu’s here?” Tu Mu called. He was checking today’s dishes. Seeing the group behind Bai Tu, he leaned close and whispered, “These must be the new cat guests?”

News spread insanely fast in the tribe. Bai Qi and Lang Ze had gone to pick up the cubs that morning, and within hours, the whole tribe knew—including the kitchen.

Bai Tu didn’t bother hiding it. He nodded. “Prepare some chicken and fish for dinner—and for the kittens too. There are three new ones.”

Ten guests weren’t few, so they could eat cafeteria lunch directly, and Bai Tu planned something special for dinner.

Tu Mu nodded, but paused at the last part. “New kittens?”

“Yes. The cats brought them,” Bai Tu said, glancing at the arms of a nearby cat orc where several kittens played. Another adult held one too. Restrained by their relatives, the kittens couldn’t fully unleash their chaotic energy, but they were clearly trying.

“Oh—they’re all white,” Tu Mu observed. He often fed the cubs and could remember the colors of each.

Previously, the tribe had two white kittens, two orange, and two tabbies.

Now the whites had increased to five—three new ones.

“Of course, they’re from the White Cat Tribe,” Bai Tu said with a small laugh. Based on the adults’ fur colors, about half the tribe was white; the black-haired ones were probably raccoon cats or cow cats, and the blond ones were orange cats.

Then Tu Mu suddenly pulled Bai Tu aside and whispered:

“Tu… I heard many orcs in the White Cat Tribe are sick.”

Bai Tu blinked. He hadn’t heard that.

But then, looking back at the white-furred cats—with ice-blue eyes—he remembered something important.

White cats with blue eyes were far more likely to be born deaf.

Tu Mu quietly added, “That’s why the White Cat Tribe rarely interacts with other tribes and always hides away.”

Bai Tu nodded. Genetic conditions couldn’t be cured. Best to avoid spreading panic and unnecessary misunderstandings.

Tu Mu didn’t linger on the topic. Instead, he switched to something more practical. “I didn’t realize you wanted those feathers for toys. Do you want more? There’ll be another batch later.”
Feathers piled up every day, and he always fretted about how to dispose of them. Bai Tu’s suggestion to bury them was workable, though it still required people to dig and fill holes. Using some for toys was even better.

“Cai’s working on it. I’ll study it later,” Bai Tu said. He hadn’t made toys in a while, and now that cubs were everywhere, he wanted to make plenty—not only for the tribe, but also to trade with other tribes.

Orcs didn’t spoil their cubs, but they always tried to make life a little easier for them. And feather toys were great for both cubs and adults. Today, several adult cats had snatched feathers to play with on their own.

“Alright, I’ll sort them for you later.” Tu Mu didn’t care who made them—so long as the feathers were used. “Actually, I’ll go tell them to keep today’s feathers too!”

He ran off in a hurry.

Bai Tu: “…”
Never mind. As long as he’s happy.

After Tu Mu left, Bai Tu turned to the cat orcs. “Go ahead and get food.”

Mao Chuan finally regained his senses. “Aren’t… aren’t we cooking it ourselves?”
Before entering, he’d assumed they had to cook their own meals. He had even been calculating how to ration their remaining food. He never imagined stepping into a place where so many large bowls of fully cooked food were set out for everyone to take freely.

He watched the first table’s large serving bowl get replaced three times already—each time full.

This was the first time Mao Chuan had ever seen a tribe eating like this.

The Snow Rabbit Tribe… really had that much food?

He remembered what some orcs outside had whispered—that the tribe used to barely have enough to eat until Bai Tu came. So was this all because of him?

The other cats also stared blankly at Bai Tu, while the kittens remained obsessed with the feather toys, chewing and swatting at the dangling feathers.

Bai Tu pointed inside. “This is a cafeteria. Over there are trays and bowls. Over there are dishes. Take whatever you want.”

Mao Chuan hesitated, then shook his head. “We brought food. Tu, where’s your kitchen? We can cook for ourselves.”

The other cats echoed him. They were simple by nature. No matter how much food the Snow Rabbit Tribe had, they didn’t want to take someone else’s meal and leave others hungry.

Bai Tu smiled. “There’s plenty of food. Don’t worry—we can feed you for a few days.”

The cafeteria cooked in batches. They never dumped all the food out at once. Tu Mu constantly adjusted the quantities—adding more when the food diminished quickly, preparing less when it went slowly. Nothing was wasted, and everyone was fed.

Ten cats—even with cubs—were nothing. If they ate, and the food ran low, Tu Mu would simply refill it. That was all.

Right then, Tu Mu and two others came out with two new dishes. Seeing that Bai Tu wasn’t eating yet, he walked over.

“Tu, why aren’t you eating? Not to your taste today?”

“Nothing like that,” Bai Tu said. “The cats were worried that if they ate here, our tribe wouldn’t have enough.”

Tu Mu stared at the slender, travel-worn cat orcs, then snorted. “Nonsense. There’s plenty.” He waved at them. “Eat. If anyone’s still hungry, I’ll cook more myself.”

Mao Chuan looked at Bai Tu again—moved, embarrassed, and overwhelmed all at once.
“I…”

“Eat first,” Bai Tu said.

Still cautious, the cats only took a little food at first. Bai Tu sighed. If he left them alone, they’d eat even less. He picked a wolf cub who had just finished his meal and sent him home with a message for Lang Qi, then washed his hands and personally helped the cats choose food—small portions of everything.

The cats hadn’t eaten this much variety in ages.

By the end, Mao Chuan suddenly put down his chopsticks and cried.

He had held it in for too long.

He wiped his eyes, voice trembling. “There are many white cats in our tribe… The tribes around us say staying near us will make their cubs born deaf.”

“Our orcs aren’t contagious!”
His voice cracked. Being a leader meant he couldn’t show weakness in front of his people. But here, with Bai Tu, he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Father said… they told us to abandon the deaf cubs. How could we? They are our cubs.”

“When our cubs were stolen, and we searched everywhere, they scolded us again. Said it was punishment for keeping the deaf cubs. Because the one watching them that day… was born deaf.”

Bai Tu felt a stab in his chest.

“You’re not wrong,” he said firmly. “And neither is the deaf orc.”

The unfairness, the distance they had traveled, the discrimination they endured… Bai Tu couldn’t help asking,
“Why don’t you stay in our tribe?”

Mao Chuan froze.

The other cats also stopped eating, ears pricked, eyes wide.
Was he… inviting them?

Bai Tu nodded.

In the corner, a Flower Bear tribe member who had been leaning against the wall suddenly jolted upright—then bolted out the door.

Bai Tu didn’t even have the energy to ask.

He briefly explained the situation to the cats and had Bai Qi take them to rest. Then he picked up the snacks Tu Mu had saved for him and headed home.

Halfway there, he spotted Xiong Liao and that same Flower Bear orc.

The bear tribe member hadn’t noticed Bai Tu. He was earnestly lecturing Xiong Liao:

“When you get to the cafeteria later, grab Master Bai Tu’s leg and cry as hard as you can.”

Bai Tu: “???”