Building a Civilization and Raising Cubs in the Beast World – Chapter 153

Unlike the Black Forest Tribe—which forced everyone to work under their control—the Xihe Tribe used a far more efficient tactic: they simply ordered the surrounding tribes to hand over food and supplies.

In the early days, before the Xihe Tribe became the massive power it was now, some tribes did rebel.
And the consequences were… extraordinary.

Believing they were being punished by the Beast God, these tribes had no choice but to obey. After all, the mysterious ailments vanished the moment they complied with the shaman’s orders. But for those who continued resisting, their warriors and even their cubs began dying one after another. No tribe could bear that kind of “punishment.” Watching their cubs and kin die before their eyes, they finally surrendered, no matter how harsh the Xihe Tribe’s demands.

Over time, the shaman’s words became synonymous with the Beast God’s commands. And soon, almost no tribe in the Western Continent dared to defy the Xihe Tribe.

No one suspected that these so-called punishments were merely tools the shaman used to control them.

If anyone else had said such a thing, it might have been questioned.
But the one saying it now… was Hu Nian.

Hu Nian—the eldest son of the Xihe chieftain and the nephew of the Xihe shaman.

If he admitted it, what other explanation could there be?

So they hadn’t been cursed by the Beast God at all. Their suffering—years of hunger, fear, and loss—was all because of the Xihe Tribe. To force them to deliver food willingly, the Xihe Tribe had intentionally killed their cubs and tribesmen, then disguised it as divine punishment.

The gathered tribal leaders were devastated. Why hadn’t they seen through the scheme sooner? How much better would their tribes have been if not for the Xihe Tribe?

Outside the room, the chieftains simmered with shock and grief.
Inside, Lang Qian continued questioning the thoroughly inebriated Hu Nian.

Wolf Thousand asked, “What is Lord Tiger’s true purpose in coming here this time?”

Hu Nian, clutching his wine bowl, answered as if taking an exam from the Beast God himself:
“To seize… seize their territory… their land and food…”

“Why isn’t anyone from the Xihe Tribe coming?” Wolf Thousand pressed.

“Hehe…” Hu Nian chuckled, voice dripping with drunken malice. “To… to kill… all the disobedient ones…”

At that, only Bai Tu’s expression remained calm. Everyone else looked ready to storm inside and beat Hu Nian to death.

But the wolf warriors standing guard blocked their way.

Only then did the visiting chieftains remember—they were still in someone else’s tribe. And that “someone else” happened to be the tribe Hu Nian had just confessed he intended to destroy.

Their faces stiffened.
Yes, they had indeed come under the Xihe Tribe’s orders to attack the Snow Rabbit and Blood Wolf Tribes.
But now, knowing the Xihe Tribe had planned to eliminate them as well, they couldn’t even look Bai Tu and Lang Qi in the eye.

Even with over a dozen tribes, their total numbers barely reached four or five hundred warriors. They were no match for the locals—not when the rabbit and wolf tribes had united. Even the distant Xihe Tribe had sensed the danger and hurried them here to destroy the two tribes before their merger could stabilize.

But now they realized—they were merely disposable pawns the Xihe Tribe intended to sacrifice.

After calming down, their feelings toward Bai Tu and Lang Qi became even more complicated. They should be grateful, but one look at Bai Tu’s calm and Lang Qi’s sharp eyes made them feel guilty instead. They themselves would never have reacted this calmly if they were the ones being targeted.

No wonder this tribe was thriving.

The chieftains exchanged glances, then turned to Bai Tu, who had remained gentle and composed since they entered.

“This must be Lord Bai Tu,” a man in his twenties or thirties said. “Sir… how did you make Hu Nian say all that?”

The others nodded quickly. Yes—how did they get Hu Nian to confess?

They had traveled with him all the way here and had long since seen through his nature.
Foolish, yes. Reckless, yes. But even he knew which secrets must never be spoken aloud.
He had hidden the truth the entire journey—proof that he wasn’t completely brainless.

They didn’t doubt the accuracy of what he said; too much matched their personal experiences. But as chiefs, they were steadier than the average orc. Initial anger aside, they now wondered if the Snow Rabbit and Blood Wolf Tribes had used some special method.

“Divine Water,” Bai Tu said frankly. “We gave Hu Nian divine water. Only then did he reveal everything—including how to contact you.”

This explanation was necessary. After all, Hu Nian wasn’t a child. His sudden betrayal would have been unbelievable otherwise.

The moment Bai Tu said this, the chieftains understood.

Hu Nian might be unreliable, but divine water was legendary. Even if they hadn’t used it themselves, most had heard stories from their elders. And now it made sense—the Xihe Tribe had gone too far, even using the Beast God’s name to harm people.

Inside the room, Lang Qian continued questioning.
Outside, the chieftains clenched their fists, their anger barely restrained. If not for the wolf guards watching them tightly, they would have charged in already.

The Xihe Tribe had harmed countless orcs to build their own power. These chieftains were just one group of victims. Many others had suffered even worse… some tribes had even vanished entirely.

One older chief shook his head. “I should have thought of this… such a coincidence…”

They had only recently angered the Xihe Tribe—and then their tribe was “punished” by the Beast God. The timing had been too perfect. Their tribe had lived peacefully for decades, even centuries, without incident. The shaman’s prayers for mercy usually took many days, even ten days, yet punishment always came within three.

But back then, they were too terrified, too overwhelmed, too trusting of the shaman. They truly believed the Beast God had condemned them and pushed them into the Xihe Tribe’s grasp.

After Hu Nian finished recounting the tribes harmed by the Xihe Tribe, Lang Qian asked about the sub-beasts taken back then.

Hu Nian didn’t know many details, but he understood they were all the shaman’s decisions.
He had only gotten drunk that afternoon for the first time in his life—he had no resistance at all. Now his mind and mouth were completely out of control, revealing everything he should and shouldn’t say.

The impact on the chieftains was enormous, especially the older ones. Younger warriors had seldom seen sub-beasts in their lives, and many had never even heard the word. Only those over thirty remembered them—some sub-beasts were even their children. Yet they had been too young then to resist. They had been forced to watch helplessly as their loved ones were taken away.

Older chieftains, many of whom had once lived alongside sub-beasts or even been bonded with them, were struck hardest. One elderly orc with a white beard collapsed in shock.

Others hurried to support him. When he awoke, he looked around with tears streaming down his weathered face. His lips trembled as he whispered, barely audible:

“…I wronged them…”

When the rumors spread that sub-beasts brought misfortune, he had just become chief. His tribe had over a dozen sub-beasts—and he had personally sent them all to the Xihe Tribe.

But it hadn’t been true.
None of it had been true.
Just like the Beast God’s “punishment,” it had all been a conspiracy.

How many sub-beasts had died because of him?

The old orc clutched his chest in grief.
But it was twenty years too late.
The sub-beasts he sent away might not even be alive anymore.

Silence fell until Lang Qian finished his questioning. Then Bai Tu stepped to the doorway and gently gestured to pause. Lang Qian withdrew his hand from Hu Nian and wiped it in disgust on a nearby hide.

Seeing Hu Nian unconscious, Bai Tu ignored him and turned to the chieftains.

“You heard everything. This is what the Xihe Tribe has done.”

They nodded grimly. At this point, what to do with the Snow Rabbit and Blood Wolf Tribes wasn’t even relevant anymore.

They needed to expose the Xihe Tribe’s conspiracy.
They needed to rescue the sub-beasts.
Every day they delayed meant another tribe harmed, another sub-beast suffering.

The young chief from earlier asked softly, “Lord Bai Tu… how do we save them?”

“To save them, the Xihe Tribe must be defeated,” Bai Tu replied. “But we’ll need your help—your guidance.”

“Guidance” was a polite way of saying it. In truth, Bai Tu needed their cooperation.
The Snow Rabbit and Blood Wolf Tribes couldn’t march across the continent alone. The Xihe Tribe was too far away, and without allies near them, a surprise attack was impossible.

Whoever fought on their home ground held the advantage.
But if the surrounding tribes turned against the Xihe Tribe…

Everything changed.

Bai Tu hadn’t let them hear Hu Nian’s confessions for nothing. He had no intention of mobilizing his entire tribe alone. He needed these tribes—especially those nearest to the Xihe Tribe—to act.

“I’ll need a few days to prepare. And someone must spread these truths quietly,” Bai Tu said. “You’ve just heard how the Xihe Tribe deceived your people. Exposing their lies and saving the tribes about to be tricked shouldn’t be difficult, right?”

Hu Nian had essentially provided an open-book guide on exactly how the Xihe Tribe controlled tribes. If these chiefs still couldn’t expose the conspiracy… then Bai Tu would have to rethink his allies.

“Not difficult… not difficult at all…” the white-bearded elder said hoarsely. “It’s what we must do. We must help them. And the sub-beasts… we must save the sub-beasts…”

Those tribes that were about to be targeted by the Xihe Tribe… weren’t they exactly like they themselves had once been?
The chieftains wished they could go back immediately—rush home, warn their clans not to trust the Xihe Tribe, not to speak with unfamiliar orcs, and not to believe their staged miseries when passing through Xihe-controlled territory.

“You’ve all been deceived by the Xihe Tribe. You’re victims, too,” Bai Tu said. “I’ve prepared some food for you. Take it with you.
But don’t confront the Xihe Tribe head-on right now. If you run into any Xihe beastmen, say these are spoils of war—that Hu Nian has already taken over our tribe.”

Bai Tu wasn’t afraid of the Xihe Tribe sending people—he was afraid they wouldn’t.
The more of them he dealt with now, the smoother things would be later.

Among the group, two beastmen stared fixedly at Bai Tu and Lang Qian.
Just as the others followed the arranged guides to collect food, the pair suddenly transformed into their beast forms—one lunging at Bai Tu, the other at Lang Qian.

In the blink of an eye, over a dozen wolves appeared.
Some protected Bai Tu and Lang Qian, while the rest slammed into the attackers, biting down at their vital points and forcing them to the ground.

The other chieftains, alarmed by the commotion, turned back to look. Their faces filled with confusion. They had heard everything—shouldn’t these two resent the Xihe Tribe? Why were they attacking Bai Tu and Lang Qian?

Pinned to the floor, the two orcs glared at Bai Tu with venomous hatred, like they would leap up and tear him apart the moment they were freed.

“I remember now—he’s Hu Que’s sister’s son!” one suddenly shouted. “The old Black Fox Tribe chief died, and Hu Que sent him to take over.”

These dozen tribes were closer to the Eastern Continent than most Western tribes, but still far apart. The closest two required half a day’s walk between them.

They had all been under the Xihe Tribe’s rule for years, delivering large amounts of food annually. Orcs in these tribes spent their entire year hunting or foraging just to meet quotas. Their contact with neighboring tribes was even less frequent than that of the former Snow Rabbit Tribe.

Naturally, they weren’t familiar with each other. Many didn’t know that the new Black Fox chief had come from the Xihe Tribe.

As for the other orc, the crowd exchanged looks—he was familiar, but no one could place him.

After a long moment, someone finally spoke.
“He looks like… Leopard Pan’s mate.”

Leopard Pan—once Hu Nian’s follower. Now only a few tigers remained with Hu Nian, all pushed aside by Bai Tu.
This beastman probably believed that Bai Tu had killed Leopard Pan and had come seeking revenge.

Ironically, their impulsive attack only strengthened the remaining chieftains’ trust in Bai Tu and Lang Qian.
Wasn’t this exactly how someone acted after having their conspiracy exposed?

It seemed the Xihe Tribe had committed many, many evil deeds.

The group cast one last cold glance at the unconscious Hu Nian. If he weren’t still useful, they would have torn him apart on the spot.

The elderly beastman’s hands trembled uncontrollably.
Countless in his tribe had starved over the years—for no reason other than the Xihe Tribe’s endless demands for food. And when he thought of the sub-beasts taken back then, guilt surged so fiercely he wanted to walk into the nearest river and drown.

Bai Tu acted quickly. While the tiger clan members were out inviting the chieftains, he had already prepared everything.
Worried they wouldn’t dare eat food given by foreigners, he mixed it all together and let the wolves try it first.

Ever since moving into the new residential area, their warehouses had been overflowing—especially with foods that were ready to eat. Each type was valuable on its own; even one kind of meat could be traded for far more salt than ordinary roasted meat.

But Bai Tu didn’t hesitate.
Basket after basket of food was distributed.
Even with over a dozen chieftains carrying two baskets each, it wasn’t enough. Wolves had to help transport the rest.

The food included not only meat but also sweet potatoes, wheat, and other staples. Bai Tu demonstrated simple cooking methods and even shared some pre-prepared meals from the tribe.

“Take it all,” Bai Tu said. “If you need more, come find me again.”

Wolves stood beside the baskets, waiting to escort them.

“Lord Bai Tu… we truly wronged you,” the white-bearded elder said with a trembling voice.
They had almost become executioners of the Snow Rabbit and Blood Wolf Tribes. If they had obeyed Hu Nian or Leopard Pan and attacked, how would they have been any different from the Xihe Tribe?

“We’ll deal with everything later,” Bai Tu replied gently. “Be careful on your way back.”

These tribes were victims too—already carrying enough pain. Bai Tu had no intention of harming them. In fact, the Xihe Tribe’s crimes needed their help to be exposed. Even if the Snow Rabbit and Blood Wolf Tribes had grown wealthy, they were still tribes of the Eastern Continent; sending warriors across the continent would be exhausting and dangerous. And even if they arrived, defeating the entrenched Xihe Tribe would be difficult.

Worse yet—the nearby tribes were still deceived.
If the Snow Rabbit Tribe attacked recklessly, those tribes would be the first to defend the Xihe Tribe.

Bai Tu didn’t want senseless bloodshed.
His target had always been the true culprit—
The Xihe Tribe, with its unforgivable crimes.

Tribes like Hu Wan’s were pitiful victims, not enemies.

After the chieftains left, Bai Tu sent no one to follow them, nor did he rush to ask about the Western Continent.
He focused on preparing emergency food reserves.

Regardless of whether the Xihe Tribe attacked, they needed food that could be eaten immediately. And those deceived tribes might not be able to defeat the Xihe Tribe. Reinforcements might be necessary.

Whether or not the food was eventually used, preparation was better than scrambling at the last moment.

Even if it wasn’t used, it would certainly not go to waste—
In this tribe, no matter how much food there was, it always disappeared before it had a chance to spoil.

Bai Tu prioritized tasty, ready-to-eat foods—like dried meat.
Meat offered far more sustained energy than fruits and vegetables. The same weight of meat could keep an orc full for two or three days, while fruits might last only half a day.

But Bai Tu was also preparing something no one on the Beast God Continent had ever seen—

Canned food.

If sealed properly, canned food could last two or three years. Their current technology couldn’t achieve that, but a few months was certainly possible.

With the decision made, Bai Tu began gathering materials.

The ingredients were easy to choose. Most kinds of meat could be canned, and while fruits were also possible, spending half a day to make something that would be eaten in one meal wasn’t worthwhile.

He settled on chicken, lamb, beef, and pork.

The principle was simple: high-temperature sterilization, then airtight sealing to create a vacuum that prevented airborne bacteria from entering.

The tribe did have airtight containers, but they weren’t mass-produced.

Iron containers were out of the question. Even with help from the Black Hawk Tribe, metal was precious. Knives were no longer rare, but iron still couldn’t be wasted.

After much thought, Bai Tu chose glass and ceramic containers.

A year of refinement had made their glass production stable and safe for food storage. Glass was abundant locally—unlike iron ore.

But glass had a weakness: fragility.
A small impact or sudden temperature change could shatter it.

Ceramics could crack too, but were generally more durable.

So Bai Tu decided to use both.

First, he found the rabbit in charge of glass production and drew several bottle designs.

“Bigger or smaller is fine,” Bai Tu instructed. “Just keep them within this size range.”

Handmade items couldn’t be perfectly uniform, but consistency within a range was doable. Uniform bottle sizes made the meat-to-broth ratio easier to control.

The same applied to ceramic jars.

Next came sealing.
Bottle sizes might vary, but the openings could be standardized. Bai Tu planned to use iron caps coated with beeswax.

Even if the iron caps weren’t perfectly airtight, the beeswax layer would ensure no air entered.

Because everything was handmade and might not fit well, Bai Tu designed a second method: covering the opening with cotton cloth, then sealing the cloth with beeswax.
The tribe would test both methods to see which worked best.

While Bai Tu oversaw preparations for long-lasting food, Bai An anxiously paced around, urging him to decide on a name for their tribe.

The matter should have been settled long ago, but constant interruptions kept delaying it. With salt production rising rapidly, Bai An felt they couldn’t postpone it any further. He rushed to Bai Tu’s house to push for a decision.

Bai Tu sighed.
“Chief, can’t we wait until the Xihe Tribe is dealt with? Being watched by a powerful, treacherous tribe… no one can celebrate freely under that shadow.”

He was right. Rescuing the imprisoned sub-beasts and enslaved beastmen came first.

Bai An reluctantly agreed. The Xihe Tribe’s looming threat made it inappropriate to hold celebrations now. But with salt production soaring, he felt uneasy.

“Should we pause the salt-making team for a while?” Bai An asked. “Or should I take some salt to trade with other tribes?”

Even if they had plenty of food, Bai An felt producing this much salt without trading it was a loss.

Bai Tu shook his head.
“No. Keep going. There’s no such thing as too much salt.”

Hearing Bai Tu say they needed the salt, Bai An was baffled.
“You mean… you want to take the salt to the market and exchange it for supplies?”

The tribe already had a sizable stockpile. If they continued producing salt, the only option would be to bring it to the market.
But that was dangerous. Very dangerous.

At the market, every tribe came and went. Everyone could see exactly how much salt they carried—and the Snow Rabbit Tribe would instantly become a target.

This was completely different from secretly bartering with a few tribes. When done quietly, they could always claim the tribe was short on supplies and simply exchanging stored salt for food—especially now, when they had taken in so many orcs. That explanation sounded perfectly reasonable.

But the market was another story entirely.

“No,” Bai Tu said, shaking his head. “No market. We’ll use the salt ourselves.”

He planned to win over several tribes as allies. Salt—lightweight, portable, and invaluable—was the best bargaining chip.

After confirming again and again that Bai Tu truly intended to use the salt, Bai An finally returned to supervise the storage of the newly produced batches.

The tribe had been busy for more than half a month when the orcs sent to the White Bear Tribe to build houses finally returned.
At almost the same time, someone Bai Tu never expected walked into the tribe.

“Su?” Bai Tu stared, surprised to see Shi Su appear during peak hunting season.

Only tribes like theirs—those who had already shifted from hunting to herding—would have spare time right now. For other tribes, this was the most crucial period of the year. They wouldn’t waste even a day, let alone visit other tribes.

Shi Su was anxious about hunting… but something more important had driven him here.
The moment he saw the construction workers heading home from the White Bear Tribe, he couldn’t wait.

“Tu,” Shi Su said urgently, “could our tribe build a breeding area and a mess hall like the White Bear Tribe?”

He had discovered the White Bear Tribe’s new breeding area by accident. Having visited the Snow Rabbit Tribe many times, Shi Su knew better than anyone what a breeding area meant. Prey raised indoors, fed properly, grew quickly and predictably.

The Snow Rabbit Tribe ate fresh meat every day because they raised their own prey.
Shi Su had watched this countless times—how could he not be envious?

The two tribes were friendly, but not close enough that he could casually ask for such a favor. He had been waiting for the right chance. Once he saw the White Bear Tribe constructing new houses with the Snow Rabbit Tribe’s help, he immediately realized his window had opened.

Knowing the house-building job would end within a few days, he skipped the morning hunt and came straight over. His timing was perfect; the workers returned at almost the same moment.

“A breeding area and a canteen? Sure,” Bai Tu said easily.
It was a simple request—and one he welcomed. Bai Tu had always wanted better relations with nearby tribes. Shi Su had handed him the perfect opportunity.

“Really?!” Shi Su blurted out, genuinely shocked.

After all, both facilities originated from the Snow Rabbit Tribe, and all the necessary materials were produced only by the Snow Rabbit and Blood Wolf Tribes.

Any other tribe—with rare skills and materials—would squeeze every possible resource from those seeking help: demanding extravagant payment, raising prices to impossible levels, adjusting them based on the other tribe’s strength, and essentially draining them dry.

On the Beast God Continent, if a medium or small tribe had an injured or sick beastman, starvation was often the only outcome. Losing a single adult hunter could cripple a tribe’s survival. Hardship was unavoidable.

Shi Su remembered the food and medicine the Snow Rabbit Tribe had lent them. The medicine had been far better than anything the shamans could make, yet the Snow Rabbit Tribe had never used it to extort them. Each dose cost only a little food.

Those small favors were one thing. But now, even with massive buildings like a breeding area and a mess hall, Bai Tu still wasn’t demanding much. Payment could be made over two years. The only requirement was that after raising prey to adulthood, the Yellow Lion Tribe would give a portion back to the Snow Rabbit Tribe.

Shi Su had arrived today with a “try my luck” mindset.
He had even rehearsed ways to negotiate if the demands were too high—perhaps asking to delay payment again.

But Bai Tu agreed before he could even speak.

It was more than he could have hoped for.

After this was built, their quality of life wouldn’t drop at all. With six months to a year of effort, their tribe could rely entirely on animal husbandry, just like the Snow Rabbit Tribe—never again needing to depend on dangerous, exhausting hunts.

The Yellow Lion Tribe also kept some prey, but with no proper facilities. Everything was stored in caves—fewer cave spaces than the Snow Rabbit Tribe once had, and clustered so closely that orcs often complained about the stench.

But it was their winter lifeline. Complaints didn’t change necessity.

Now, with a breeding area on the horizon, they could raise far more prey.
Shi Su’s joy couldn’t be contained, and he wanted to rush back immediately to share the news.

But Bai Tu had only agreed—he hadn’t said when. It felt rude to leave so soon.

Shi Su considered offering some prey first.

Bai Tu noticed Shi Su’s sudden hesitation. He knew exactly what he was worrying about. Even with the facilities built, it would take time before they could raise anything. This winter, they would still need to rely on hunting.

“The construction team just returned,” Bai Tu said. “Let them rest for a couple of days. Come pick them up the day after tomorrow.”

“Okay! I’ll be here the day after tomorrow!” Shi Su brightened instantly.

Knowing the timeline, he relaxed completely.

Thinking of the soon-to-be breeding area and canteen, Shi Su wanted to give his thanks again.

Bai Tu waved him off—and generously added, “I’ll send a few cooks too. They can teach your tribe not just ready-to-eat dishes, but also foods that store well. You can even take them with you to the market.”

“Yes, yes!” Shi Su said quickly—then stiffened as Lang Qi stepped inside.

Even though he wasn’t part of the Snow Rabbit or Blood Wolf Tribes, Shi Su understood very clearly that Chief Lang Qi did not like others getting too close to Bai Tu.

Understandable—anyone would watch their partner closely, in case someone tried to steal them away.

Lang Qi looked Shi Su over. Finding him relatively well-behaved, he said nothing, only informing Bai Tu:

“The White Lion Tribe’s chief has arrived.”

Originally, Bai Qi had gone to deliver this message, but after seeing Shi Su leaving and spotting Lang Qi nearby, he had simply been lazy and told Lang Qi directly.

“The White Lion Tribe?” Bai Tu blinked.
They interacted frequently with the Yellow Lion Tribe, but rarely with the White Lion Tribe. Aside from borrowing food or requesting cubs, the White Lion Tribe almost never visited.

Why had they come now?

Shi Su, on the other hand, instantly tensed up.
“Is… is it also for the breeding area and canteen?”

“Hm?” Bai Tu was stunned. “How did the White Lion Tribe find out?”

The White Lion Tribe’s situation resembled the White Cat Tribe’s—though they weren’t collectively ostracized, their small numbers meant constant bullying from tribes like the Mad Lion Tribe and Black-Maned Tribe.

Individually, they weren’t weak fighters, but compared to the larger lion tribes, they simply had too few people.

Thus, unlike the Yellow Lion Tribe, they rarely interacted with others at all.

Given the distance between them and the White Bear Tribe, it made no sense that they knew about the construction.

Shi Su sighed.
“It was the White Bear Tribe. Their orcs said it.”

Recently, the White Bear Tribe had been in extremely high spirits. Only the Snow Rabbit and Blood Wolf Tribes had a canteen and breeding area before; now they were about to become the third.
Their excitement was overwhelming.

Before Xiong Liao left the tribe, Ying Mian had repeatedly warned the White Bear orcs not to spread news of the construction, in case of trouble.

Xiong Liao had passed on the warning faithfully.

But the White Bear orcs… shared his personality.

They thought: Well, nothing bad has happened yet. The construction is almost done. So it’s fine to talk about it now, right?

And so, like during the rainy season, whenever their patrols ran into another tribe, they cheerfully announced:

—“Our tribe is getting a breeding area and canteen too!”

Every tribe nearby knew exactly what that meant, and the White Bear Tribe instantly became the object of countless envious stares.

Bai Tu paused, confused.
“But how did the White Lion Tribe find out? They’re nowhere near the White Bear Tribe.”

Shi Su continued helplessly, “Yesterday, the White Bear patrol took a wrong turn. It wasn’t a big deal since they wandered into Yellow Lion territory. But the White Lion patrol happened to pass by.”

The very outgoing White Bear orc had immediately shared the good news.

The White Lion chief had gone to visit Shi Su this morning to confirm the information. Shi Su, on his way here, confirmed it was true. He assumed the White Lion chief had gone straight home afterward.

But apparently, the chief was nearly as fast as he was—and was already here.

Bai Tu: “…”

He didn’t know whether to admire the White Bear orcs’ talent for spreading information… or marvel at the White Lion chief’s speed.

Before he could comment, Bai Qi—accompanied by Lu Hui—came sprinting into the residential area, panting heavily.

“How are so many tribes coming to find us today?!” Bai Qi muttered angrily as he ran.
“If I find out who’s behind this, I’m never letting them off!”

Even a rabbit’s life is precious!!!