Foxfire had been chosen by Yang Luo as one of the honored warriors of the day. It was thanks to his sharp eyes and careful observation that he managed to discover the tracks of two wild mice during the hunt.
However, in his previous tribe, Foxfire had rarely participated in hunts due to an injury that left one of his hind legs permanently lame. Although he was agile and resourceful, his physical limitations meant he was often overlooked. To survive, he crafted straw ropes and woven items, sometimes trading them for food.
But even that wasn’t easy. Most orcs already knew how to make their own ropes, and Foxfire’s injury marked him as someone “forsaken by the Beast God.” This stigma left him isolated, with few willing to interact with him.
So when Qi Bai approached Foxfire willingly, it clearly startled him.
Foxfire hesitated for a moment but quickly noticed Qi Bai’s interest in the straw rope he was making. His hands slowed, deliberately showing the weaving process in more detail for Qi Bai to observe.
Foxfire held a grass stem between his thumb and index finger, pressing gently to release its juices, leaving behind a tough, fibrous strand. He then twisted this strand together with the existing rope in his left hand, his fingers deftly extending the length of the straw rope with each rotation.
Qi Bai watched attentively, though his mind had already shifted to a new idea.
Seeing the piranhas earlier that day had left Qi Bai pondering ways to catch them safely. At first, he thought about crafting tools to fish, but watching Foxfire’s rope-making gave him a simpler and more practical solution: weaving a large vine basket to trap the fish.
After Qi Bai explained his idea, Foxfire thought for a moment before responding.
“The straw rope I’m making now is for drying rabbit skins,” Foxfire explained while continuing to work. “Rabbit skins are small, so the rope needs to be thin and tough. If it’s too thick, it’ll ruin the skins.”
Qi Bai nodded along, listening carefully.
Foxfire then suggested, “For what you’re planning, I’d recommend using Qingteng vines. They’re strong, flexible, and ideal for making a large basket. I saw a patch of Qingteng earlier today near where the hunting team passed. You could try cutting some from there.”
Qi Bai’s excitement was evident. After thanking Foxfire, he noted the appearance of the Qingteng vines in his mind and eagerly set off toward the location Foxfire had mentioned.
Stepping out of the cave, Qi Bai glanced at the sky. The rain clouds that had hung heavily for days seemed to have thinned, revealing faint traces of a gray-blue sky.
He murmured a silent prayer for the rain to stop.
Though orcs were naturally resilient and indifferent to rain, Qi Bai—perhaps because of his leopard instincts—found the dampness unbearably uncomfortable.
Following Foxfire’s directions, Qi Bai had not walked far when he overheard soft voices ahead.
“Mother, I miss Father so much. Will we ever see him again?”
The childlike voice struck Qi Bai, and he instinctively slowed his steps.
The reply came quickly, tinged with weariness but gentle: “Xiao Xia, how many times have I told you? You can’t call me ‘Mother’ anymore.”
It was Lu Guo.
Lu Xia, the youngest member of the group, responded in a tearful tone. “But you said not to call you that in front of others. There’s no one else here.”
Lu Guo sighed and gently stroked the child’s hair. “If you keep calling me that, what if you forget one day?”
“I won’t forget! Never!” Lu Xia said stubbornly, shaking her head.
After a moment of silence, Lu Guo changed the subject. “Was the meat today delicious?”
Lu Xia’s tone brightened briefly. “It was so good! I wish we could have meat every day!” Then, her voice fell again. “If Father were still alive, he would have had a piece of meat too. Mother, do you think Father has meat to eat now?”
Lu Guo paused, gazing at the rain. He didn’t answer the question. Instead, he said softly, “If you promise to stop calling me ‘Mother,’ you’ll have the chance to eat meat more often in the future.”
Even at three years old, Lu Xia seemed to understand the implications of those words.
“Mother,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “will you abandon me?”
Lu Guo smiled faintly, pulling Lu Xia closer. “I will never abandon you. I’ll stay by your side forever. But you must remember: from now on, I’m not your mother anymore. I’m just your slave. Can you promise me that?”
Tears welled up in Lu Xia’s eyes. She buried her face against Lu Guo’s chest, her small body shaking with sobs. After a moment, she nodded.
Qi Bai, hidden behind a tree, felt his heart tighten at the scene.
He had known there were deep scars hidden beneath the surface of their ragtag group. But hearing Lu Guo—a proud, capable sub-orc—utter those words with such resignation left Qi Bai deeply unsettled.
After a moment of silence, Qi Bai continued toward the patch of vines Foxfire had mentioned. But his mind was no longer solely focused on crafting a fishing basket. Lu Guo’s words echoed in his head, filling him with an unfamiliar determination.
This wasn’t just about survival anymore. It was about finding a way to build a better future for all of them.
Qi Bai left Lu Guo and Lu Xia as quietly as possible, his mind heavy with the weight of what he had overheard.
Lu Guo was undeniably intelligent, but her status as a slave overshadowed everything else.
In many tribes, slaves were treated no differently than prey. Children born to slaves were automatically branded with the same fate, their identities shackled before they even had a chance to live freely.
Yet, for Lu Xia, who was still too young to be marked, the calamity that tore them from their former tribe could become an unexpected turning point—a chance to escape that cruel destiny.
Qi Bai walked forward, lost in thought, his heart heavy with sympathy and frustration. He was so distracted that he didn’t notice someone quietly following him.
A faint sound broke the silence, deliberately made to catch his attention.
Startled, Qi Bai turned quickly to see Langze stepping out from the shadows.
Langze seemed like he wanted to chastise Qi Bai for being so inattentive in the wilderness, where danger could lurk anywhere. But whatever words were on the tip of his tongue remained unsaid.
Fortunately for them, the recent heavy rains had driven most of the animals out of the area, and the larger predators had moved on in search of food. While hunting was hard in these conditions, the relative safety was a rare blessing.
Qi Bai, relieved to see it was Langze, pushed aside his earlier sadness. He didn’t want to bring up what he had overheard about Lu Guo and Lu Xia—it would only make Langze, another slave, feel even worse.
Instead, Qi Bai adjusted his expression and smiled. “Langze, where are you going this late?”
Langze hesitated for a moment before answering casually, “Just taking a walk.”
Qi Bai accepted the answer without suspicion. Langze was always so composed and cool, after all. Cheerfully, he extended an invitation. “Want to go fishing with me?”
Langze’s brow furrowed slightly at the mention of fishing, especially since he had heard about the Man-Eating River earlier in the day. He didn’t think the piranhas were as dangerous as some claimed, but their reputation for being unpleasant to eat made him skeptical. “Piranhas don’t taste good,” he remarked simply.
Qi Bai’s stomach growled faintly, a reminder of how little he had eaten that day. He figured Langze must be just as hungry. Hearing Langze’s words, Qi Bai knew he hadn’t outright refused, which gave him confidence to push further.
“Let’s just catch a few and try them,” Qi Bai said, grinning. “I’ve never eaten piranhas before, so how can we know if they’re bad unless we try?”
Langze gave Qi Bai a long, considering look before glancing around. “This isn’t the direction to the Man-Eating River,” he pointed out.
Qi Bai nodded. “Right. Before we catch fish, I need to find some green vines to make tools.”
Langze didn’t press for details. He had a keen memory for the terrain the hunting team had passed and knew where to find what Qi Bai was looking for. With a small gesture, he motioned for Qi Bai to follow him.
They retraced their steps until Langze pointed out a large patch of Qingteng vines growing inconspicuously among the trees.
Qi Bai stared at the vines in amazement. How had he missed them earlier? Foxfire’s description had been spot on, but Qi Bai’s lack of experience with field observation had left him blind to the obvious. Embarrassed, Qi Bai rubbed his ears sheepishly.
Langze asked how much Qi Bai needed. After some quick mental calculations, Qi Bai estimated the amount required to weave a basket about 60 centimeters in diameter. The two of them set to work in the drizzle, pulling and cutting the vines.
Langze’s strength made the task look effortless. He tore large swathes of vines free with a few quick tugs, while Qi Bai used his small bone knife to cut them cleanly at the roots.
Within a short time, they had gathered enough vines for Qi Bai’s project.
The forest was dark, the rain still drizzling lightly. Langze led Qi Bai to a stone shed he had discovered earlier.
The shed provided shelter from the rain, and its open structure let in enough light for Qi Bai to see clearly. The smooth, weed-free stone platform was an added convenience, making it the perfect workspace.
Qi Bai’s eyes lit up as he surveyed the area. It felt like he had found a secret base, and the novelty of it filled him with excitement.
Settling in, Qi Bai began processing the vines.
He trimmed off the branches and unnecessary parts with his knife. Langze, observing quietly, began to help by mimicking Qi Bai’s actions.
Qi Bai was initially curious about how Langze managed to strip the vines without a tool. Then he noticed one of Langze’s fingers shift, transforming into a sharp wolf claw. The claw made quick work of the vines, slicing through them effortlessly.
Qi Bai froze, momentarily forgetting what he was doing.
Even in the original owner’s memories, he had never seen an orc transform a single part of their body while remaining in human form. It was incredible—and utterly unexpected.
Langze, unaware of Qi Bai’s astonishment, continued working efficiently. But then something startling happened.
Qi Bai’s form shimmered and suddenly vanished, replaced by a snow-white, fluffy ball of fur.
Langze stopped and looked at the ball in surprise.
“…A leopard cub?” he muttered, staring at the tiny, wide-eyed creature in front of him.
Qi Bai blinked in confusion, then looked down at his paws, realizing what had happened.
“Oh no…” he thought. He had transformed!
The small, fluffy ball of fur seemed just as startled by its sudden transformation as Langze was. With a delicate “wawoo,” it jumped into the air, limbs splayed wide in surprise.
Langze couldn’t help but feel his normally stoic demeanor softening as he watched the adorable scene play out. The plush little cub, clearly flustered, quickly oriented itself and locked eyes with Langze for a brief moment. Then, as if trying to preserve its dignity, it spotted a large rock in the distance and bolted toward it.
When Qi Bai emerged from behind the rock moments later, he was back in his human form. His face was flushed red, and he kept his head down, pretending nothing had happened as he busied himself with cutting the green vines again.
Langze said nothing, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward, betraying his amusement.
Qi Bai was mortified. What had just happened? All he wanted was to try turning his fingers into claws, like Langze had. But instead, he lost control of his transformation and turned into a leopard cub! The sudden shift had caught him off guard, and the disorienting sensation of falling only added to the embarrassment.
The air between them was quiet for a while, filled only with the soft sounds of rain and the occasional rustle of vines. Qi Bai focused intently on his task, his cheeks still warm with residual shame. Meanwhile, Langze continued smiling faintly, the image of the flustered cub still fresh in his mind.
Qi Bai soon regained his focus. Selecting four green vines of equal thickness and length, he arranged them on the ground in the shape of a “米” character.
Using peeled vine skins soaked in rainwater for added toughness, he wrapped the skin around the crossed vines, securing them in place. Next, he took a fresh green vine, fixed one end at the center of the “米” shape, and began weaving it over and under the frame, working his way outward in a circular motion.
Within minutes, a large, round disc—roughly 60 centimeters in diameter—had taken shape.
Langze, who had been silently watching Qi Bai’s methodical movements, picked up the disc with curiosity. Holding it in his hands, he turned it over a few times, clearly puzzled. “How can a plate like this be used for fishing?”
Qi Bai, excited by his progress, felt a surge of pride. This was his first attempt at weaving anything, and it had turned out better than he’d hoped. The earlier embarrassment was now forgotten as he beamed at Langze.
“It’s not finished yet,” Qi Bai explained with a grin.
He then bent the eight outer sections of the “米” shape upward, shaping the disc into a shallow basket. The fresh vines were pliable and didn’t snap under the pressure.
“Hold these for me,” Qi Bai said, gesturing to Langze.
Langze immediately complied, steadying the upward-bent sections while Qi Bai began weaving more vines around the frame, gradually building up the sides of the basket.
As the weaving continued, Langze’s sharp wolf eyes caught on to what Qi Bai was creating. By the time Qi Bai had woven the basket to a height of 60 or 70 centimeters, it was unmistakable—a large, sturdy basket perfect for holding a heavy load.
Finally, Qi Bai tied a thick handle at the top, securing it firmly to the frame.
Langze stared at the finished basket, his mouth slightly open in astonishment. He had already imagined the immense convenience this tool could bring to their daily lives. It could be used not only for fishing but also for carrying goods or gathering food more efficiently.
“You just… made this?” Langze asked, still holding the basket in his hands.
Qi Bai nodded, a little proud of himself. “Pretty good for a first try, right?”
Langze didn’t respond right away, still marveling at the craftsmanship. This wasn’t something he had ever seen before.
What Langze didn’t realize, however, was that Qi Bai wasn’t finished yet. The basket was only part of the plan.
“Wait until you see what I do with it,” Qi Bai said mysteriously, a gleam of excitement in his eyes.
Langze tilted his head slightly, intrigued. He had no idea what Qi Bai was planning, but judging by the sparkle of determination in Qi Bai’s gaze, it was going to be something extraordinary.
