Building a Civilization and Raising Cubs in the Beast World – Chapter 151

Bai Tu glanced around.

Not far away, Lang Qi immediately waved for the surrounding beastmen to withdraw.

“Sub-beasts,” Bai Tu began, turning back to Lang Qian, “is there something special about them?”

“You don’t know?” Lang Qian looked genuinely surprised.

“Know what?” Bai Tu asked calmly.

“Sub-beasts…” Lang Qian opened his mouth but suddenly stopped.
He had been tricked—by Bai Tu!

He had originally planned to confess the parts that would earn him leniency: that the witch doctor had forced them to poison others, that he himself had never harmed any cubs. But in front of Bai Tu, his real thoughts slipped out before he could think.

And now he’d discovered—Bai Tu himself didn’t know about the sub-beasts’ innate ability.

Lang Qian immediately tried to salvage the situation, but his optimism was limited. Bai Tu was also a sub-beast—and a clever one. Deceiving him was nearly impossible.

“You know more than you say,” Bai Tu said, dragging over a stool. Standing was tiring; he sat down with unhurried composure, clearly prepared to wait.

Lang Qian stared at him, weighing his options.

“You said yourself—once the second wave of orcs arrives, you’ll be useless.”

Bai Tu was in no rush. The entire tribe was on high alert with ample food and weapons stored. Their fighters were well fed and well rested. The incoming orcs, however, had traveled across countless tribes with limited supplies.

The outcome of a confrontation was obvious.

If the Xihe Tribe had the strength to attack directly, they wouldn’t have bothered sending scouts. The only reason they sent Lang Qian’s group first was because it was inconvenient to move a large force such a long distance.

Lang Qian was only the first batch. A second and third would follow.
Yet Bai Tu didn’t mind—they came in small groups, which meant the Snow Rabbit Tribe didn’t need to mobilize the entire tribe. Patrols alone were enough to catch them.

Still, Lang Qian remained silent.

“It’s fine if you don’t tell me. We’ll figure it out eventually anyway. But the outcome will look very different depending on whether I discover it myself or you tell me willingly.” Bai Tu yawned. He hadn’t slept well in two days and was running low on energy. After waiting a while longer without a response, he stood. “If you don’t want to say it, that’s fine. I’m heading back. Let me know when you’ve decided.”

Lately, perhaps sensing the tense mood in the tribe, the little cub had been less hostile to Lang Qi. Since the cub’s attitude had improved, the two of them still had to handle some matters outside. Instead of wasting more time here, Bai Tu wanted to get home to the cub.

Besides, the longer they stayed, the more Lang Qian would sense their urgency—and might use it to his advantage.

In psychological warfare, the anxious side loses.

Bai Tu meant it when he turned to go. He even untied Lang Qian’s hands, saying, “You’ve talked plenty. We won’t kill you. Rest for a few days, then you’ll work and earn your food.” Their tribe wouldn’t support these people. Since they came with ill intent, they wouldn’t be released easily. Like the beastmen from the Black Forest and Red Eagle Tribes, they would work for their meals.

Lang Qian stared at Bai Tu, seeing he wasn’t bluffing.

Just as Bai Tu reached the doorway, Lang Qian suddenly said, “I’ll tell you.”

Bai Tu paused mid-step, turning back slowly. “Are you sure?”

Seeing Bai Tu ready to leave again, Lang Qian clenched his teeth. “Yes.”

Only then did Bai Tu return to him. “Go on.”

“He…”
Lang Qian glanced nervously at Lang Qi.

“It’s fine. He won’t tell anyone.”
Bai Tu sounded absolutely confident.

Lang Qian took a long breath and finally said it all:

“They… they’re jealous of the sub-beasts’ innate abilities. As long as sub-beasts exist, they can never become witch doctors.”

Lang Qian had always been clever enough to earn the trust of the Xihe Tribe’s witch doctor and chief. Yet they never truly trusted him. They even assigned a male beastman to monitor him at all times.

It was ironic. Certain tasks could only be done by sub-beasts, but the ones giving orders were still desperate to control them.

If not for being captured, Lang Qian would have escaped soon anyway. He had planned it since the last growth cycle. To avoid “wasting” sub-beasts they’d raised with difficulty, the witch doctor refused to let them reproduce early. After the last growth cycle ended, they would be impregnated—and their cubs locked away—so they could never leave the tribe again.

Lang Qian had planned to flee a month before reaching adulthood. Even if the destination was remote or barren, as long as there was food, it was better than life in the Xihe Tribe. He refused to live like the sub-beasts before him.

Being captured and taken to the Snow Rabbit Tribe actually made him the most relaxed among the infiltrators. While the others worried about how to explain their failure to the witch doctor, Lang Qian only contemplated how to use this opportunity to break free from Xihe control.

He didn’t want to reveal everything at first because he didn’t intend to stay. His life shouldn’t be controlled by anyone. Besides, in his eyes, the Snow Rabbit Tribe was a dangerously unpredictable place.

But now?
He realized Bai Tu was far sharper than he expected. The fact that the tribe captured them with ease likely wasn’t mere coincidence. Perhaps the Snow Rabbit Tribe truly could withstand the Xihe Tribe’s threat.

If Bai Tu ultimately won, divulging all this wouldn’t harm him. Bai Tu wouldn’t report him to the Xihe Tribe, and Lang Qian wouldn’t suffer their retaliation.

“Hm?”
Bai Tu ignored Lang Qian’s internal turmoil, focusing instead on the key words.

Innate abilities of sub-beasts.

Bai Tu thought of the sub-beasts living in the tribe.

What abilities did they possess that could provoke such jealousy—enough for witch doctors to spread continent-wide rumors, just to seize them?

Witch doctors had two “abilities”: “communicating with the Beast God” and healing.

He had already disproved the first. Bai Chi and the others had never claimed to receive Beast God revelations; only Wu Jiu and the other witch doctors repeated it obsessively.

As for healing…

Bai Tu suddenly remembered something.

Ever since he assigned Bai Chi and the sub-beasts to cultivate herbs, they had been thrilled, investing nearly all their energy—aside from eating—into tending the plants.

If it had been just one person, maybe.
But all of them?

Even if they had studied medicine before… could they truly be this passionate?
Shouldn’t they resent knowledge forced upon them during captivity?

Another angle: his own innate familiarity with plants.

He had wondered about this before. He had handled herbs in the past, but he had never possessed such intuitive knowledge—being able to understand each herb’s use instantly. At first, he suspected this body had learned something before amnesia, but Hei Xiao’s information and his time in the Black Forest Tribe proved otherwise.

This was worth pondering.

Bai Tu looked at Lang Qian. “You’re saying the witch doctors are jealous of sub-beasts’ natural affinity for plants?”

“I thought you didn’t know?” Lang Qian asked in surprise. He himself had only discovered it recently, which was part of why he dared plan an escape. With an instinctive sense for plants, combined with what he’d learned from the witch doctor, he knew which wild foods were edible. Even without prey, he wouldn’t starve.

Bai Tu fell silent.
Yes. That was the reason.

Thinking further: sub-beasts were also more intelligent.

Possibly due to evolutionary divergence, sub-beasts differed from male and female beastmen. Physically weak, but superior in learning and reasoning. It showed in lessons—many beastmen struggled, while sub-beasts, even older ones like Bai Chi, absorbed the knowledge eagerly.

This explained why witch doctors targeted them.
With innate plant affinity and intelligence, under equal conditions, a surviving witch doctor would always choose a sub-beast as successor.

Back in the Black Forest Tribe, Bai Tu had heard of Wu Jiu’s past. Now it finally made sense. Wu Jiu’s rise and his persecution of sub-beasts had happened simultaneously. The moment he gained power, he began eliminating the most talented sub-beasts, monopolizing the entire witch doctor system in the Eastern Continent.

Capturing sub-beasts ensured secrecy—other orcs wouldn’t question witch doctors as deeply as sub-beasts could.

Bai Tu massaged his temples.
If everything boiled down to this, then sub-beasts were truly unfortunate. A talent that should have benefited the entire continent had become the reason for their near extinction.

Lang Qian had now revealed everything he knew—nothing held back.

“Get some rest,” Bai Tu said at last. Lang Qian’s information was extremely valuable; they would need to reorganize accordingly.

Outside Lang Qian’s holding room, Bai Tu told Lang Qi, “I’m going to find Chi.”

He didn’t fully trust Lang Qian’s words—nor fully doubt them. He had his own suspicions and needed confirmation from Bai Chi.

Lang Qi had remained silent through the entire explanation. The Blood Wolf Tribe had no sub-beasts, and when the purge happened, they had all been young. Older beastmen only recalled that almost all major tribes began hunting sub-beasts, claiming they brought misfortune.

Lang Qi agreed with Bai Tu’s judgment. Hearing Bai Tu was going to find Bai Chi, he followed immediately.

When they arrived, Bai Tu got straight to the point:

“Chi, did you learn herb cultivation in the Black Forest Tribe—or were you born knowing it?”

Bai Chi went quiet.
If anyone else had asked, he could give countless answers.
But Bai Tu was the one asking…

Ever since Bai Chi and the others had been rescued, they had struggled with whether to tell Bai Tu the truth. After being imprisoned for so many years, their courage was no longer what it once was.

In their youth, they had dared to provoke the Black Forest Tribe’s beastmen to help Bai Luo escape; now, they weren’t sure they still had that kind of bravery. It wasn’t that they didn’t want freedom—it was that fear weighed heavier than hope. Could they truly escape the Black Forest Tribe’s territory? Would any tribe outside shelter them? Would they face even greater danger?

Over the years, they had asked themselves these questions over and over. Sometimes they even regretted letting Bai Luo risk his life to escape. If Bai Luo had never left, he wouldn’t have died so young.

Then Bai Tu appeared—he saved them.
But at the same time, they learned that Bai Luo had died more than ten years ago. Their long-standing fear had been proven: life outside was just as dangerous for sub-beasts.

These experiences made them far more cautious than before. They dared to send their cubs out only because even if things went wrong, the adults would take the punishment—never the cubs.

As for the truth about what happened back then, they worried revealing it might bring Bai Tu trouble.

Their current lives were so much better than anything they had dared hope for. The tribe was thriving. This was a dream they had carried for decades—what more could they ask for?

Convincing the Snow Rabbit and Blood Wolf Tribes—two medium-sized tribes—to oppose the tribes across the continent? That was absolutely never part of their plans.

They had intended to wait until the tribe became powerful enough. Only then would they discuss with Bai Tu the idea of rescuing the sub-beasts imprisoned across the continent. Once those sub-beasts were free, they could cultivate herbs, just like them. Everything from the past could quietly fade away. The sub-beasts didn’t need glory; they just wanted safety, never again to live on the brink of death.

So when Bai Tu asked, Bai Chi didn’t know how to answer.
In the end, it was cowardice.

After a long pause, Bai Chi closed his eyes. “It’s innate.”

Sub-beasts were born with an affinity for plants—not just herbs, but even ordinary trees and flowers.

And that was just the average sub-beast. Some gifted ones were born able to identify herbs—not that they recognized every single one, but they could instinctively sense an herb’s benefits or toxicity.

It was a talent tailor-made for witch doctors.
More than twenty years ago, over half of all witch doctors on the Beast God Continent were sub-beasts.

When choosing apprentices or medicine boys, witch doctors naturally preferred those they trusted. Even so, more than half of the qualified children were sub-beasts.

Even without favoritism, sub-beasts simply outshone the others.

But then, accidents began.

Witch doctors started dying—frequently, mysteriously. Not just witch doctors, but their apprentices and medicine boys. Some were injured; others died outright. Within a few years, more than half of the continent’s witch doctors had vanished.

After a witch doctor’s death, their successor would be either the apprentice or the medicine boy. Apprentices usually learned more; medicine boys handled the herbs.

A few years later, most witch doctors had been replaced—and the new ones were overwhelmingly young male beastmen. These newcomers began spreading a message:

They had survived because the Beast God protected them. Those who died lacked the Beast God’s blessing.

At that time, the mysterious deaths were so unsettling that no one questioned the claim. Who but the Beast God could take so many witch doctors?

The surviving witch doctors gained unprecedented prestige. Later, they spread new doctrines: healing required prayers to the Beast God; angering the Beast God—especially by offering too little food—would bring disaster.

Whether the Beast God was angry, no one knew. But the orcs being forced to hand over their food certainly were.

Yet those who resisted the witch doctors’ demands all died mysteriously.

No explanations. No clues.
Just fear.

The descendants of the deceased witch doctors suspected something was wrong.

Before they could investigate, a new rumor swept across the continent—the one that led to sub-beasts being hunted:

Sub-beasts brought misfortune to their tribes.

Terrifying news spreads fastest. Soon, every tribe had heard the claim. And after witnessing the witch doctors’ “power,” no tribe dared doubt it.

At first, tribes simply tried to avoid the issue. Sub-beasts tried to hide when outsiders visited. For a while, nothing happened.

Then, within two or three months, several tribes with many sub-beasts encountered strange incidents.

That was enough.
For their tribe’s safety, they expelled the sub-beasts. Only remote or isolated tribes dared hide them.

During that period, countless sub-beasts were captured—but many escaped.

Later, the Black Forest Tribe offered rewards for capturing sub-beasts. Even some who had once sheltered them succumbed to temptation and handed over their own people.

That was what happened.

Most orcs in the tribe now had been young back then; many didn’t even participate in tribal decisions. All they remembered was that their tribe suddenly drove the sub-beasts away.

Only the sub-beasts imprisoned together in the Black Forest Tribe were able to piece together the truth after years of discussion.

If Bai Tu hadn’t asked, Bai Chi and the others would have buried this secret forever. They still didn’t know exactly what had happened to the witch doctors and sub-beasts who died.

“Tu, don’t take any risks,” Bai Chi urged. He feared that after hearing all this, Bai Tu would immediately want to confront the major tribes.

Their tribe was stronger now, but still far weaker than those century-old continental tribes.

If they wanted to save lives, they had to wait until their tribe became powerful enough to make its voice heard in the Eastern Continent. Only then could they rally support to expose the conspiracy.

This was also why the sub-beasts devoted themselves so wholeheartedly to cultivating herbs. Medicine was the best way to strengthen ties between tribes. Any tribe that relied on hunting suffered injuries. Herbs could accelerate healing and reduce casualties. Every tribe needed medicine, and any tribe would gladly trade for it.

That goodwill was crucial for Bai Tu.

Bai Chi had long known Bai Tu might eventually piece everything together—but he hadn’t expected it this soon.

Bai Tu fully understood their fears.
He was a sub-beast himself—and one reason he’d been able to rally support at the market was that no one had known what he was.

If they openly opposed the major tribes now, the other side could easily provoke fear:
capture sub-beasts, “purify” the tribe, prevent misfortune.

Even the Eastern Continent tribes who no longer believed in the rumors might panic if someone died mysteriously. Who wouldn’t fear the unknown?

If Lang Qian hadn’t confessed, Bai Tu would have been uneasy as well. They could guess something was wrong—but with no idea how the witch doctors caused those deaths, they had no way to counter it.

Bai Chi’s warning came from this fear.
Bai Tu understood. So he spoke plainly.

“The wolf cubs we captured brought medicine. Two types: one causes stomach pain followed by death within half a day. The other causes abdominal pain and headaches that last several days.”

The first was used on cubs or defiant beastmen.
The second on beastmen they wanted to keep alive but obedient.

Within days, most tribes caved to the witch doctor’s demands. A few resisted—and the Xihe Tribe simply poisoned them to death.

Those medicines were still in Bai Tu’s possession. The day he returned with them, the white wolf cub had sniffed him nonstop, refusing to sleep. Only after Bai Tu removed the medicines from the herb store, sealed them in a box, and buried them did the cub finally relax.

But at the time, he hadn’t known how familiar Bai Chi’s group was with herbs, so he hadn’t shown the medicines to them.

Hearing this, Bai Chi was stunned. “You’re sure the tribes that suffered misfortune were poisoned?”

“We’re more than halfway sure,” Bai Tu replied. In truth, they were almost certain—but they had only captured Lang Qian’s small group, and only recovered medicine from them. They hadn’t yet seen what the second group carried.

“These people…” Bai Chi’s voice shook. After a long silence, he whispered, “They used what they learned from the sub-beasts to harm others.”

Not just harm others—they had poisoned the sub-beasts who taught them. Even fellow apprentices.

Bai Chi couldn’t imagine how many they had killed over the years.

Bai Tu nodded. “Exactly. After learning the craft, they killed the orcs who taught them, took their place, and then persecuted the sub-beasts. Sub-beasts threatened their positions—if left alive, they might eventually expose the truth.”

In fact, the sub-beasts did uncover the truth—only they were trapped for too many years to act. With their knowledge of herbs, sub-beasts in other tribes would have noticed tampering the moment the witch doctor slipped poison into food.

But the witch doctors had swept up more than 90% of sub-beasts, and raised their children in captivity. Anyone capable of seeing through the poison was either dead, locked in a cave with no contact outside, or part of the conspiracy.

That was why the plan had lasted so long.

If even a few sub-beasts had still served as witch doctors, countless tribes wouldn’t have fallen victim to the scheme.

“What do we do now?” Bai Chi asked. Things were far more complicated than they had imagined. Bai Tu understood the witch doctors’ methods—but opposing the Xihe Tribe still felt like throwing an egg at a boulder.

The tribes of the Western Continent still revered the Xihe Tribe deeply.

Bai Tu thought for a moment, then said,

“Undermine them.”

Bai Chi froze. He understood the basic idea—but not the details.

“Wait for the second batch of orcs to arrive,” Bai Tu said. “There will always be some as clear-headed as Lang Qian.”

Many of the orcs being used by the Xihe Tribe were the children of the sub-beasts who had been captured. Although they had been raised within the Xihe Tribe, they had never been treated well, and they had been monitored every step of their lives.

Most had long become numb.
But as long as even a few were like Lang Qian—able to see through the Xihe Tribe’s lies—Bai Tu’s plan could work.

“How can we help you?” Bai Chi exhaled slowly. These past days had been torment for them. On the one hand, they didn’t dare tell Bai Tu the truth, fearing he would throw the tribe’s orcs into danger. On the other hand, they despised themselves for living comfortably here while the other sub-beasts remained imprisoned elsewhere.

But perhaps this was the best outcome, Bai Chi thought. As long as they lived, they could still be of use—they could still help Bai Tu.

“Sow every herb seed that can grow in this season,” Bai Tu said. Now that he understood the sub-beasts’ ability, there was no need to worry about the herbs. If they planted as many as possible now, they would be prepared for anything to come.

For the next while, the orcs in the tribe became even more cautious than before.

Bai Tu didn’t tell everyone about the sub-beasts’ origins—only Bai An, Bai Chen, Tu Bing, and a few others. Upon hearing the truth, every one of them was furious.

Their tribe had never had sub-beasts, but no one had ever imagined such atrocities could happen. The Black Forest Tribe’s sins were far worse than they had known, especially Wu Jiu’s death—his master had also died suddenly.

Most tribes never heard about the deaths of witch doctors. There were two reasons: few tribes had witch doctors to begin with, and even when a witch doctor died, the news was often delayed, since it meant a loss of prestige for the tribe.

So tribes learned the news at different times. No one connected the dots.

But the sub-beasts captured by the Black Forest Tribe had been gathered from various regions—even different continents. Once all those sub-beasts were imprisoned together, even with most staying wary and silent, a few talkative ones eventually pieced things together. Only after they bonded did they realize something was terribly wrong.

Yet they learned the truth long after Bai Luo had fled. That was why they all worried so deeply for him.

The sub-beasts had kept everything from Bai Tu until now. Finally understanding the truth, the orcs who heard it were furious.

No one blamed the sub-beasts for hiding it. Their first priority had always been Bai Tu’s safety and the tribe’s safety. Telling them earlier—before capturing Lang Qian—would only have caused unnecessary panic.

It was only because they happened to encounter Lang Qian—and because Bai Tu noticed something off about the sub-beasts—that the truth finally came to light.

Bai Tu did not react dramatically. He continued his usual routine: assigning tasks, managing the tribe, occasionally studying new recipes.

The happiest, however, were the little wolves who patrolled daily. Recently, they had been fed snacks every day—different ones each time, many they had never tasted before. They were ecstatic.

Their excitement led them to increase their workload. Originally, they patrolled once in the morning and rested in the afternoon. Later, they added a second patrol in the afternoon—and then a third patrol after playing in the evening before coming home.

With more patrols came more encounters.
Seven days after Lang Qian’s capture, the little wolves met another group of orcs.

This group differed from Lang Qian’s team: there were more male orcs than females; sub-beasts and females made up only half their number.

They hadn’t come seeking help. They were looking for their missing cubs.

“We’re orcs of the Black Tiger Tribe. We lost three cubs two years ago. My name is Hu Nian, leader of the Black Tiger Tribe.”

The little wolves stared at their group, quietly comparing themselves to the male orcs of the Black Tiger Tribe—and whispered among themselves.

“Their tribe is so dark.”

“They look burned.”

“Even their faces are cooked evenly.”

“…I want Tu’s roasted bread,” one wolf cub suddenly said.

Their conversation drifted further from the topic while the Black Tiger orcs stood there waiting for a response.

At last, Lang Ze—feeling he was the most reliable one present—cut off the little wolves’ rambling, ordered them to stop chatting, and led the visitors back to the tribe.

At the same time, Lang Qian was giving Bai Tu information about the Xihe Tribe.

“Half the beastmen of the Xihe Tribe are tigers. The rest are wolves and foxes…”

Lang Qian listed every race, then recited—from memory—the witch doctors, the chief, the squad leaders, and the number and names of each unit.

He also listed the tribes deceived by the Xihe Tribe. Some no longer existed—their cubs had been poisoned to death, and the remaining beastmen had joined other tribes or become wanderers.

On the Beast God Continent, the loss of cubs was an unforgivable tragedy. Cubs were a tribe’s future.

If a tribe had no cubs of the right age, it meant extinction. Surrounding tribes would suppress them mercilessly—and often steal their food—because while others grew stronger, that tribe could only weaken.

The longer Bai Tu wrote, the harder it was for him to control his anger. If he didn’t remember Bai Chi and the others’ warnings, he would have rushed out to expose all these crimes to the world.

Before he could explode, Lang Ze burst in excitedly:

“Tu! We caught another batch of people!”

Lang Ze had already decided that Bai Tu had been giving them treats every day because they had caught someone before. Now that they’d caught another group—surely the snacks would increase again!

Lang Qian felt conflicted when he saw Lang Ze.
On one hand, Lang Ze was indeed key to his being alive now.
On the other hand, he remembered being pinned down by this wolf the other night—so thoroughly he couldn’t move—and the memory made his chest tighten.

Especially since Lang Ze would often look at him with wide eyes afterward and innocently ask why he seemed upset.

It was a ridiculous feeling: preparing to strike someone with all your might, only to swing into thin air—and the other person turns around, confused, asking if you skipped dinner.

Yet while frustrated, Lang Qian also admired Bai Tu more. That team wasn’t just Lang Ze—there were dozens of similar orcs. Bai Tu interacted with them every day without losing his temper, and even got them to work enthusiastically. Just thinking about it made Lang Qian respect him all the more.

“What are their names?” Bai Tu asked. “What race? How many?”

“Tiger Tribe. Twenty total. Their leader’s name is Hu Nian.”

“Hu Nian?!” Lang Qian was stunned.

“You know him?” Bai Tu scanned his list but didn’t see the name.

“Hu Nian is the name the chief’s son uses when he travels outside.”
Lang Qian didn’t know whether to feel relieved or alarmed. Hu Nian’s arrival meant the Xihe Tribe couldn’t contact their first group. At the same time, it proved they believed everything was still under control—otherwise, they would never send the chief’s son into danger.

Lang Qian also knew the truth: the shaman and chief didn’t trust him that much. They must have issued another secret order.

If the operation failed—kill all the sub-beasts first.

In the shaman and chief’s mind, those sub-beasts were already dead.

But reality would disappoint them, Lang Qian thought. All of them here were alive—and those loyal to the chief and shaman were the ones who could die at any moment.

“Tu,” Lang Qian said suddenly, looking serious, “don’t lock Hu Nian up.”

Before Bai Tu could speak, Lang Ze nearly jumped.
“Are you stupid?!”

Lang Qian ignored him. He leaned in and whispered in Bai Tu’s ear.

Lang Ze glared at him, sulking.
Who wanted to listen to their secrets anyway?!

Even though his ears twitched involuntarily trying to catch the words…

But the two were whispering too quietly, and he heard nothing.

It’s all Lang Qian’s fault, Lang Ze thought bitterly.

Ever since Lang Qian came, Tu has been acting sneaky.
Totally unlike a wolf! Lang Ze grumbled to himself.

A moment later, Lang Qian straightened up. Bai Tu also rose to his feet, and the two walked out together.

“Ze,” Bai Tu said as he passed, “tell the canteen to make more food today. Order anything you want—and tell them it’s from me.”

“Okay!”
The moment food was mentioned, Lang Ze forgot every grievance.

Watching him run off, Lang Qian’s expression grew even more complicated.

Lang Ze’s attitude toward food reminded him of the day they had been captured—because of a single careless comment about eating.