Following Hou Yan’s command, the group began dividing into two teams.
It was only then that Qi Bai noticed there were only ten adult horned orcs among the more than fifty members, and several of them were either elderly or disabled.
Meanwhile, tasks were being assigned within the sub-orcs and cubs team, which Qi Bai had joined.
Yang Luo first asked if anyone knew how to polish stone tools. His question was met with hesitation, and the group fell silent. Yang Luo didn’t rush anyone, his expression calm and encouraging as he waited.
Finally, a sub-orc cautiously raised her hand. “Lord Yang Luo, I once helped my master polish a stone axe.”
Yang Luo gave her a warm smile. “Very good.”
The sub-orc was a gentle-looking individual named Lu Guo. Noticing that everyone’s attention was on her, she quickly lowered her head, saying nothing more.
Encouraged by Yang Luo’s approval, another sub-orc raised his hand. “Lord Yang Luo, I’ve sharpened a stone knife for you before.”
Yang Luo smiled and nodded, motioning for both of them to step aside. He continued until five sub-orcs had been selected.
Qi Bai couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of familiarity and unease as he watched Yang Luo’s reassuring demeanor.
Next, Yang Luo asked, “Who can light a fire?”
This question stumped the entire group. Fire was a precious resource among the orcs, as it was difficult to create. Though the orcs had learned to use fire, only a few knew how to make it. This skill was considered sacred and required great precision.
Most tribes preserved an “eternal fire,” and ordinary members didn’t need to start fires themselves. They simply used the flame when needed.
Even Qi Bai, despite understanding the principle of making fire from his modern world knowledge, doubted he could succeed. The orcs, with their primal experience, were probably better equipped to attempt it than he was.
Yang Luo didn’t seem disappointed by the lack of volunteers. He picked two older cubs from the group and decided they would try their hand at making fire.
The remaining thirty or so members were divided into four smaller teams, with team leaders assigned to each.
Qi Bai’s team leader was a sub-orc named Tu Ya. Upon hearing Yang Luo’s arrangement, Tu Ya looked flustered. “I’ve never been a captain before. I don’t know how to lead.”
Yang Luo addressed her gently. “You were part of your tribe’s gathering team, weren’t you?”
Tu Ya’s eyes widened, and she nodded timidly.
“Then do you know which plants and fruits are safe to eat and which ones aren’t?” Yang Luo asked.
Tu Ya hesitated. “I… I don’t know all of them.”
“You don’t need to know them all,” Yang Luo reassured her. “Just gather the ones you recognize. Teach your team members how to pick them safely and bring the food back to the group. If you can do that, you’ll be an excellent leader for the gathering team.”
Tu Ya thought about the gathering team leader from her former tribe. Yang Luo’s words aligned with her memories, and she began to understand what being a team leader entailed. It didn’t seem as daunting as she had feared.
Yang Luo placed a hand gently on her head and said in a steady, rhythmic tone, “You can do it. The Beast God will protect you.”
A surge of confidence filled Tu Ya. She nodded firmly, and for the first time, she felt a sense of responsibility and even a bit of anticipation for tomorrow’s task.
Qi Bai, observing from the side, opened his mouth as if to say something but stopped. That inexplicable feeling from earlier stirred again. Yang Luo’s demeanor was entirely different from before. He had transformed from a disheveled, exhausted refugee into someone resembling a charismatic “charlatan” who could convince anyone to believe in him.
Even more bewildering was the fact that everyone—Qi Bai included—felt compelled to trust him.
What Qi Bai didn’t realize at the time was that Yang Luo’s tone and mannerisms were characteristic of trained priests.
In Qi Bai’s original body’s small tribe, priests were chosen from within the community and lacked the refined authority Yang Luo exuded. This noble and commanding presence was something only a professionally trained priest could master.
After Yang Luo’s instructions, everyone had a clear role. Even the youngest cubs, barely three or four years old, followed their assigned captains with a newfound sense of purpose.
With plans set for the next day, Qi Bai returned to his resting spot.
The cave bore no signs of having been inhabited by orcs, but there were scattered nests of hay serving as makeshift beds.
From this, Qi Bai deduced that the cave must have been an animal’s den. Whatever creature had lived here hadn’t returned for a long time—the faint traces of its scent lingered but were barely noticeable.
At night, the cubs and elderly orcs were given the hay beds to sleep on, while the younger orcs and sub-orcs, including Qi Bai, chose random spots around the outer edges of the cave to rest.
Qi Bai picked a spot near the stone wall closest to the cave entrance. It was quiet, shielded from the rain, and had a clear view of the forest and mountains outside. Using a branch, he swept away the pebbles on the ground and made himself a simple resting place.
Though it was already late, the scenery outside the cave was mesmerizing, illuminated faintly by the moonlight and shrouded in mystery.
After a while, Langze, a young horned orc in his wolf form, came over and sat beside him.
Since Langze had saved Qi Bai from beneath the tree during the mudslide, the two had been sticking together.
Qi Bai felt an inexplicable closeness to Langze, almost like the bond of lifelong friends. Though Langze was naturally quiet and reserved, he seemed to share some level of trust and warmth with Qi Bai.
Grinning, Qi Bai flashed a row of small, white teeth. “Have you finished assigning tasks to your hunting team?”
Langze nodded and began clearing the area around Qi Bai without saying much.
Qi Bai had grown accustomed to Langze’s personality and knew his taciturn nature didn’t mean he was cold.
“We’re setting off at dawn tomorrow. When does your group leave?” Qi Bai asked.
“Earlier,” Langze replied after a pause. Realizing his answer might seem curt, he added, “We might have to go farther to find game.”
Qi Bai nodded. “With all this rain, the animals here have probably fled to other areas. Hunting will be tough. Don’t worry, though—we’ll pick plenty of fruits and vegetables tomorrow, so there should be enough food for everyone.”
Langze met Qi Bai’s bright, confident gaze and couldn’t help but be affected. His expression softened, and he nodded slightly.
Amid the rhythmic sound of raindrops, Qi Bai soon fell into the most peaceful sleep he’d had since arriving in this world.
When he woke the next morning, Langze was already gone. The hunting team must have set off early.
Tu Ya approached him not long after and said, “Bao Bai, we’re about to head out. Make sure to stay close today, alright?”
Qi Bai nodded seriously, and Tu Ya smiled, leading him to join the others.
Though Qi Bai looked like an adult, being seventeen meant he was still considered a cub in this world, where orcs didn’t reach full maturity until around twenty due to their long lifespans of over a hundred years.
Tu Ya had already given instructions to the other cubs earlier, and she remained patient with Qi Bai despite his older appearance.
At the cave entrance, Yang Luo directed the four gathering teams, assigning each one a direction and emphasizing the importance of recognizing the signs left behind along the way. He repeatedly confirmed that everyone knew how to find their way back to the cave, even if separated from the group, before allowing the teams to depart.
Qi Bai’s group, led by Tu Ya, consisted of eight members: two adult sub-orcs, four young cubs, and Qi Bai.
Among the cubs was an excitable little orc who circled Qi Bai energetically after hearing Tu Ya call his name. The cub, only five years old, introduced himself as Leopard Star.
Despite both being from the leopard tribe, Leopard Star and Qi Bai came from different groups, and their animal forms were distinctly different.
Leopard Star’s sleek fur was adorned with beautiful patterns, while Qi Bai’s beast form was an albino snow leopard. Unlike typical snow leopards with black ring patterns across their bodies, Qi Bai’s fur was pure white, with faint silver rings visible only under sunlight.
In their original tribe, this difference had been a source of bullying for the original body. Qi Bai’s original name had been “Mao Bai” (Cat White), a dismissive moniker reflecting his lack of the tribe’s prized patterns. The constant mockery had left the original body deeply insecure.
After traveling to this world, Qi Bai had a chance to see his animal form reflected in water and found himself utterly captivated. The fluffy, snow-white little leopard with its massive tail—nearly as long as its body—looked like a soft, oversized dandelion.
Amused and enamored with his adorable appearance, Qi Bai decided to reclaim his dignity and changed his name to “Bao Bai” (Precious White). The part of his mind tied to the original body seemed to respond with joy to this act of self-acceptance.
Qi Bai and his group set off from the cave, heading east.
In his previous life, Qi Bai had spent his final years confined to a hospital. Plants weren’t allowed in his ward due to his illness—not even flowers. Though he loved watching cooking shows and survival programs, he hadn’t had any real contact with nature in years.
Tu Ya, despite her experience as a member of a gathering team, was struggling to adapt to the unfamiliar environment. They had left her tribe’s territory entirely, and many of the plants they encountered were new to her. Some plants that looked similar could have wildly different effects, and some might even be poisonous. Tu Ya dared not take any risks.
Careful and deliberate, she examined every plant closely. As she admitted earlier, she couldn’t identify everything. Thankfully, another sub-orc in the group, Diao Lan, had extensive knowledge of plants and was able to assist with identifying several species.
Squatting in front of a weed with thick, fleshy leaves, Tu Ya pinched off a small piece, chewed it slowly, and swallowed. After confirming it was safe, she called the group over and pointed to the plant.
“This is ‘Li Grass,’ the kind mountain sheep eat. It’s edible. Everyone, remember how it looks and tastes.”
Tu Ya spoke gently as she pinched off a few more pieces of Li grass and stuffed them into the mouths of several cubs nearby.
The two adult sub-orcs, Shulin and Diao Lan, watched the scene unfold, both stifling laughter behind their hands.
A moment later, Qi Bai’s face twisted into an expression of pure agony, but he stubbornly refused to spit the grass out. He hadn’t eaten enough the day before and was now climbing the mountain on an empty stomach. Finding something edible, even if it tasted unbearably bitter, was a small victory. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to swallow.
Nearby, the sounds of cubs spitting and gagging filled the air, their faces scrunched up as they quickly tried to rid themselves of the unpleasant taste.
Shulin finally gave in and burst out laughing.
Tu Ya joined in, chuckling as she said, “Li grass is a precious food. It’s bitter when eaten raw, but once boiled, the bitterness fades. It’s also useful for stopping bleeding—if you’re injured, chew some Li grass and press it onto the wound. Let’s collect as much as we can and take it back.”
Hearing that it was not only edible but would also taste better once cooked, everyone suddenly felt more motivated.
Some of the cubs eagerly reached out to start picking the grass with their hands, while others tried using tools.
Leopard Star, for instance, picked up a thin, sharp stone from the ground and used it to carefully cut the grass.
Qi Bai, however, pulled out a small bone knife from the animal skin bag slung around his neck.
The small bag and bone knife were the only possessions he had.
The animal skin bag, secured with a sturdy leather strap, hung loosely around his neck when in human form. In his animal form, it nestled within the thick fur around his chest, resembling a little bib.
The food that had once been stored in the bag had long since been eaten. What few strips of dried meat had remained were given to Langze by Mao Bai, the body’s original owner, before his death.
Qi Bai couldn’t help but suspect that Langze’s decision to save Mao Bai might have been influenced by those strips of meat. But since Mao Bai had passed, the act had indirectly benefited Qi Bai, who had inherited the rescue.
Now, the only thing left in the bag was the small bone knife.
The knife, slightly longer than a palm, was crafted from an unknown wild animal’s bone. It was remarkably sturdy, with a metallic sheen when struck against hard surfaces. Along the way, Qi Bai had used it to cut through countless things, yet its edge remained as sharp as ever, showing no signs of wear.
With his trusty knife in hand, Qi Bai was quick and efficient. Before long, a small pile of Li grass had accumulated at his feet.
When Tu Ya saw that everyone had gathered enough food, she called for a halt. The group found large leaves to wrap the Li grass in neat bundles.
Since they could no longer carry any more, Tu Ya decided they would return to the cave to drop off the grass before continuing their work.
