Chapter 368 – Extra 2: Hei Yao Life

The day after the notice was posted, the entrance to the Yi Si (administrative office) was already crowded with beastmen. Yet of all those gathered, only a few dozen were actually waiting in line.

Still, just those few dozen nearly blocked the whole Yi Si gates.

Each person waiting carried a piece of their life—furniture, utensils, bowls and pots, tables and stools. One giant deer beastman hefted a small wooden stool, intending to place it at the table before Qi Bai—but a hand blocked him.

Lang Ze’s brow furrowed.

“Be careful walking.”

The giant deer beastman didn’t understand why the City Lord suddenly showed such concern. He felt goosebumps across his fur but held steady and quietly explained,

“I heard the notice said needed: small wooden stools. This is my own handiwork.”

Qi Bai took the little stool from Lang Ze’s hand, examined it, and asked,

“How much for this one? And how many can you make in a month?”

The deer beastman had been watching from behind and knew exactly what the Great Priest was asking—so he instantly brightened and quoted a fair price:

“Great Priest, I have a stall in the trading street. I’ve got six beastmen apprentices there learning carpentry. We can make six or seven of these small tables a day.”

Truly, businessmen think differently! The price was very reasonable, nearly perfect: many in the city still didn’t understand the value of their labor. With simple materials easily found, many undervalued their own work and, intimidated by the Great Priest’s presence, widely underpriced themselves.

They forgot: time, effort, and skill are far more valuable than raw materials.

Qi Bai nodded and found the small stool category in his ledger. He wrote down the beastman’s name and, for quantity, entered 150:

“Let’s do it as you say. You make 150 this month for inspection. If all is well, I’ll issue further orders next month.”

He tore off a request slip and filled in the details again. He stamped it and said,

“Take this to the Household Office (Hu Si) and collect half the materials now. The rest you’ll get when delivering the completed stools.”

As the giant deer beastman stepped out of the Yi Si gate, several other horned beastmen—likely in their twenties—gathered around him expectantly.

Holding the slip aloft, the deer beastman beamed,

“Our goods have been approved by the Great Priest!”

The others squeezed in around him:

“Brilliant! Finally a real order!”

Some other beastmen waiting outside approached.

“Need wood for making tables?”

“We can chop whatever kind you need!”

Not everyone in the city had a craft. Many Yi Di beastmen arrived later and still hadn’t learned handicraft skills.

But even without skills, they had strength. To fill these orders, raw materials were needed—and that’s what they could provide.

“Yes, we do need wood.” The deer beastman thought for a moment, then detailed the types, diameters, and quantities required. “Be sure—if the wood isn’t right, I won’t accept it.”

The horned beastmen patted their chests, grinning confidently,

“Understood—won’t be a problem!”

With official orders in hand, they each fetched carts and hurried home. Since snow hadn’t yet fallen, they wanted to cut as much wood as possible before travel became harder.

Within an hour, several batches had formed—each beastman now equipped with an order slip and in negotiations at the gate.

Sensing Lang Ze’s watching eyes, She Li seized a break in Qi Bai’s attention and coughed lightly:

“Great Priest, I’ve learned the process. Why not assign the next tasks to me?”

“Done.” Qi Bai didn’t hesitate and handed her the position.

If anyone understood city pricing best, it was She Li. She was perfect for it—and already familiar with the standard prices.

Previously, caravans simply placed orders with street shops. This was the first time Qi Bai attempted competitive offers with scattered craft workers—and She Li was first to model it.

That didn’t mean Qi Bai could relax. He called the workshop heads and Yun An into the adjacent meeting room.

The room was more orderly; Qi Bai didn’t need to help take notes. As responsible heads of Hei Yao’s workshops, they were all adept at writing and calculations.

“Although the parts are divided among your workshops,” Qi Bai said, “remember: you are producing one complete product. All parts must be inspected strictly according to the sample we issued.”

Hei Yao had received many orders at the Sacred Mountain Market, but the bulk were tents—what Qi Bai needed them to craft now.

Tents weren’t intricate items—they needed easy assembly and durability. Too many small parts would make them fragile or difficult to set up.

But this didn’t make them easy. On the contrary: if parts needed to be replaceable, they required uniform standards—just like manufacturing on Lan Xing.

So even though Qi Bai split the tents into parts, each part had a fixed workshop lead.

Everyone nodded and took thorough notes.

Qi Bai reminded Yun An:

“Felting is something everyone can do. Work with the village heads to assign more work there.”

“Understood.” Yun An nodded.

“I’ll head out to the outskirts this afternoon.”

With everything organized, Qi Bai realized he’d forgotten something… and looked back to see Lang Ze’s tight lips and the swirling dark aura filling the room.

Oops. He had planned to bring Lang Ze along to divert attention—but had become so engrossed he almost forgot the most important thing.

He padded over to Lang Ze and winked—but Lang Ze looked even more unsettled.

Qi Bai’s instincts were right—Lang Ze didn’t realize how strong his possessiveness had become. He wanted to keep Qi Bai encircled in his beast form, with no one else near.

But he knew that wasn’t right: Qi Bai was his partner, yes—but also Hei Yao’s Great Priest. He couldn’t hide Qi Bai from view.

Under Qi Bai’s pleadingly shining eyes, Lang Ze had to admit—Qi Bai was right. He was indeed a little unwell.

His self-reflection wasn’t finished, though—because the eyes looking at him were quietly glinting… in a… predatory manner.

Qi Bai let out a soft laugh and covered his mouth.

“This is… kinda embarrassing.”

In that moment, Lang Ze’s tempest vanished. Smiling, he asked, “What were you thinking?”

Qi Bai shook his head mischievously.

“I would never say… but seeing your… eyes, my mind wandered from a nursery to… impossible places.” He caught himself. “No, that’s not for talking about.”

Although he had teased things up, Qi Bai had realized: trying to divert Lang Ze’s attention using Yi Si tasks wasn’t realistic—it risked getting real.

Luckily, Qi Bai had a backup.

When they returned home, they found bamboo stacked by the door—the gift of Bao Yue and Zhu Ya.

Lang Ze asked,

“What are you doing with that?”

That bamboo was Qi Bai’s backup—a diversion within their household.

He sat on the living-room carpet, hands miming:

“A long tall basket on top, a sturdy base at the bottom—strong enough to hold it, yet gentle enough to rock.”

Lang Ze’s instinct clicked:

“For the cub’s crib?”

Correct. Qi Bai planned to build a baby cradle.

Though a beastman cub was sturdy—and might soon outgrow it—having a crib would let Qi Bai safely sleep with the cub without fear of accidentally crushing it.

Lang Ze retrieved his bone knife.

“These bamboo poles are heavy—I’ll handle splitting them.” He sliced them into fine strips.

Qi Bai didn’t touch the bone knife—but busied himself with needle and thread and fabrics, working right alongside him.

Besides the crib, they had many tasks: bedding, clothes, feeding bowl—simple but requiring great patience.

Miraculously, Wolf Ze’s mood calmed with that task. Qi Bai too grew accustomed to carrying a little life within.

After Yi Si work was assigned each month, only a few days saw busy deliveries. Once She Li and her team were efficient, Qi Bai and Lang Ze could drop it from their plate.

They focused on this, and after half a month of work, created a satisfactory crib.

They covered it with soft padding and sat face-to-face before the little bed, watching it sway gently.

Qi Bai tenderly rubbed his belly. In that moment, he felt the truth: soon, he would truly be a father.

Time flew—and before they knew it, the year-end came.

That afternoon, the City Lord’s Mansion buzzed with life.

Fifty-four people from the Black Mountain tribe came—but none arrived empty-handed. Some carried meat, others sacks of flour. Even the youngest, a small deer named Xia, carried a bag of sugar-coated apricots—her favorite snack, to share with companions.

It was Hei Yao’s Winter Festival. If the Autumn Festival celebrated harvest city-wide, Winter Festival was families closed indoors celebrating together.

Each year, the Black Mountain folk gathered for a hearty New Year’s feast.

Of course, more than the original fifty-four came. There were over ten more cubs along, and with spouses included—more than seventy people in total.

Wolf Ze, along with Hu Qiao and Xi Zhou, dismantled the four doors of the reception hall. They opened up space connecting the guest hall to the kitchen and living room—making one wide space.

Fireplaces blazed. Cublets ran barefoot in the room while adults set up long boards, facing each other to make dumplings.

Qi Bai, as the only “pregnant husband” this year, was playfully shooed by Hu Xue:

“Go play—making dumplings is no work!”

Now Qi Bai understood why pregnant beastmen never seemed idle—because they didn’t really suffer like human pregnancy. He’d eaten and slept well these months; unlike others, he hadn’t thrown up once.

He even wondered if his small belly was from the cub—or from too many delicious meals from Wolf Ze.

Seeing he had nothing else to do, Qi Bai sat on the sofa. He waved sweets at the cubs, who came running, short paws bouncing.

But when they dashed to the coffee table—the sofa Qi Bai vanished.

The little snow leopard felt a strange flutter in his chest.

My big boy… I shouldn’t doubt you. You sure pick the best timing.

Author’s Note:

Still not born! Still not born!

Chapter 367 – Extra 1: Life in Hei Yao

Qi Bai felt a flutter of nervousness—this was, after all, his first time carrying offspring.

But he quickly noticed someone else in his household was even more on edge.

After they returned from the cave, Lang Ze vividly demonstrated what it meant to “be too fragile to touch.” Qi Bai woke in the morning to find Lang Ze trailing him like an overgrown pup. When Qi Bai sat up, Lang Ze handed him clothes. When Qi Bai brushed his teeth, Lang Ze stood guard outside the door. When Qi Bai cooked… well, Lang Ze took over the household’s three daily meals entirely. Even Su Jian and the others were politely “rejected” when they offered to help.

In short: aside from eating—Qi Bai had to chew himself—Lang Ze would’ve done everything for him if he could.

At first, Qi Bai simply thought Lang Ze was nervous about becoming a father too. But after three or four days of this, things began to seem off.

Watching Lang Ze’s calm expression—which seemed utterly unchanged—a phrase suddenly popped up in Qi Bai’s mind:

Could it be prenatal depression?

“No.”

Qi Bai was stunned by this self-diagnosis of prenatal depression, but Lang Ze shook his head firmly.

His partner was about to give birth. It was a time when he shouldn’t be bumping into things or catching colds. Giving birth was dangerous enough—how could he be ill at such a crucial time?

…Diagnosis confirmed: it was prenatal depression.

Qi Bai’s mind raced. Why was Lang Ze so anxious?

He thought it through: Hei Yao now had an obstetric ward, something never seen in the beast world before. Not only were there healers, but priests took turns blessing the newborns. As Hei Yao’s Great Priest, Qi Bai naturally helped at the temple.

From Qi Bai’s perspective, even with medical resources lower than on Lan Xing, giving birth among beastmen was already much safer now. Most half-beastwomen could deliver on their own; the real challenge was raising the offspring. That said, danger remained: dystocia (difficult birth) could still occur—even though rare, among immobilized populations over time it became a frightening statistic. Lang Ze had seen such cases firsthand—he understood how difficult birth could be and how high the stakes.

No matter what the medical label was—prenatal depression or not—the bottom line was that Lang Ze was in no condition to handle stress, and needed something to shift his focus.

Qi Bai curled up on the sofa and tried to reason with him:

“You see? Everyone else gave birth so casually. When Shu Lin had her cub, she transformed back into human right after and went to work!”

Lang Ze expertly seized on the wrong point:

“You can’t work before or after giving birth.”

To make sure Qi Bai took it seriously, Lang Ze added:

“That was your policy.”

…Yes. That policy was indeed from Qi Bai himself.

“No—what I’m saying is not can you work before giving birth. The point is giving birth is easy.” Qi Bai said indignantly.

“I’m a half-beastman. Birth is natural for me.”

Lang Ze chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re the best.”

Qi Bai raised his chin.

“So stop watching over me every day! What about affairs in the city—are you going to manage those or not?”

Lang Ze answered coolly:

“Nothing major happened in the city recently. City defense and the martial bureau’s daily tasks are handled by Ma Ling and Lang Ji; the rest are managed by Monkey Yan and Deer Yan. They can handle everything themselves.”

Qi Bai raised an eyebrow—until he glanced at the fur rug and slapped his thigh:

“You’re fine, but I have work to do!”

“We accepted so many orders from Beast God City, but haven’t started any production. If we don’t get moving, we’ll miss the delivery date.”

Qi Bai grabbed Lang Ze’s hand and whined:

“It takes three months before the cub is born. I can’t just stay at home three months, I’ll go stir-crazy.”

“All right,” Lang Ze acquiesced.

“I’ll go with you.”

That was exactly Qi Bai’s plan. He sprang up, rummaged through the study, and found the bookkeeping ledgers he’d used at the Sacred Mountain Market.

Just as he reached out, he inadvertently transformed into his beast form again.

Lang Ze rescued the little snow leopard from the fur coat, frowning at the squirming cub:

“It’s inconvenient to keep switching forms. Keep the beast form for the trip to Yi Si—when we arrive, you’ll change back.”

Temperatures changed throughout the week following the autumn festival, and soon everyone switched to winter clothing.

Outside the Sacrificial Hall timer sat a small table, beside a brazier of boiling water. Passing beastmen greeted respectfully:

“Yang Luo Jisi.”

Yang Luo’s ears poked through his fur, reddened, but his expression was unusually upbeat:

“On your way to work?”

The Sacrificial Hall sat at the center of the plaza. People walking to workshops—east and west—passed by regularly.

A half-beastman chuckled:

“Yes.”

Yang Luo nodded:

“Thanks to the Great Priest, you still have work this winter. Don’t let him worry about you.”

“That’s right,” another said quickly, “especially since the Great Priest is still carrying a cub. We mustn’t let him overthink things.”

At last, Yang Luo said slowly:

“You fools. It’s been seven years—these two couple only now have a cub. Everyone thought you couldn’t have kids. So naturally, everyone must know—and celebrate. Only then can the cub grow strong.”

He threw a look at Lang Ze, half in teasing, half in respect.

Indeed, Yang Luo had set up tea out front today just to spread word. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been out there freezing.

“Meow! Meow!” the cub complained—not a fan of public praise.

Though it couldn’t understand beast tongue, Yang Luo understood Qi Bai’s meaning instantly:

Qi Bai may be educated, but clueless about pregnancy. And in the beast world, not conceiving meant being devoid of divine blessing.

Qi Bai, losing in the cultural clash, turned and stuck his backside out in protest.

“Those two are a pair,” Qi Bai thought; “no wonder Wolf Ze said it’s inconvenient to go out in beast form.”

Lang Ze scratched his nose. He wasn’t in cahoots with Yang Luo—though who could resist subtle bragging about their mate and cub?

But Lang Ze did understand Yang Luo’s intention: on this continent where fertility was glory, a childless couple could be seen as unblessed. He didn’t care, but better avoid that misconception.

At that moment, several beastmen strolled past, and Yang Luo turned his attention to them—and the cub’s wagging tail distracted Lang Ze enough that he didn’t continue teasing.

Lang Ze led the cub to the Yi Si (administrative house). There, Qi Bai hurried to the next room and changed into his robes. He nudged Lang Ze with his nose—“No tricks. This is my civil form.”

Yun An and Sun Qing were there too. After a brief discussion, they decided to start work tomorrow. Yun An and Sun Qing grabbed some paper and quickly posted recruitment notices.

Just as Qi Bai and Lang Ze got ready to head home, Zhu Ya and Bao Yue pulled up two carts loaded with bamboo.

Qi Bai approached:

“Do you have trade goods?”

“Yes,” Yun An joked. “They’ve been busy earning supplies. I’m guessing they’re close to coming of age—hoping to find a partner soon.”

Bao Yue ignored Yun An. She shifted to human form, tapped the cart, and said matter-of-factly:

“We’re picking up the bamboo ordered by the weaver’s workshop. They’ll come to collect soon. If you want some, Bao Bai-gege, we can chop more tomorrow.”

Qi Bai grinned:

“Sure. But I don’t need much—just half a cart is enough.”

Author’s Note:

Bad news: Someone has prenatal depression.

Good news: It’s not the pregnant husband.

 Chapter 366

The vanguard had just crossed a small hill when a clear, ringing whistle echoed ahead.

At that familiar, melodious sound, everyone felt as though they might lift off the ground.

It was Hei Yao’s whistle—their clansmen had spotted them.

The warriors lifted their heads toward the distant mountains, at the vague outline of the watchtowers. That was the gateway into the Hei Yao plain. Once they crossed that mountain range, they would be home.

Sure enough, when they reached the mountain’s foot, Lang Jin, Niu Lu, and a few others were standing at the plain’s entrance, bouncing and waving their arms frantically.

As soon as the carts drew near, they hopped up on the sideboards, chattering endlessly.

“Bao Bai-gege, you’re finally back! Bao Yue and the others already went back to the city to report!”

Qi Bai smiled.
“Good, thank you.”

In a blink, these little brats were nearly grown, strong horned beastmen old enough to take patrol duty. Gone were the pitiful, punished-for-brawling boys they once were.

Lang Ze shot them a look.

Lang Jin immediately stood straighter.
“Report to the City Lord—we didn’t abandon our posts. Our captain ordered us to come receive you.”

He couldn’t help smirking afterward. “Receive” them? This was Hei Yao’s army returning home—what need was there to receive them? It was just an excuse to give the lads a break.

Before long, the column passed through the valley between the peaks. The view ahead suddenly opened wide.

Qi Bai’s eyes widened.

The plain before the city had completely transformed.

On either side of the broad, straight road, new stone buildings were rising, and behind them stretched fields newly cleared by beastmen.

From a distance, the houses and fields layered outward in arcs facing the city, like the orbits around a planet.

It was August—the season of the first harvest. Everywhere, beastmen busied themselves with labor: bending low with stone sickles to reap, pushing handcarts loaded with water buckets and food toward the field’s edge, or resting in the shade, wiping sweat from their brows.

At the sound of the carts and marching feet, they all stopped their work and turned to look.

On the midsummer plain, a breeze passed through, swaying the trailing vines.

No matter how many years passed, Qi Bai would always remember this unremarkable sunny day: the breeze that blew away the smoke of war, the indescribable surge of peace and exhilaration in his heart.

Beside the carts, Lang Ze shifted into beast form. Qi Bai leapt lightly onto the white wolf’s nape.

The giant wolf stretched his limbs, running full out across the endless fields.

Qi Bai clutched Lang Ze’s horn, inhaling deeply. Even the air filling his chest seemed incomparably sweet.

Home. They were finally home.

“It’s the City Lord! The City Lord!”

“The Great Jisi-daren and the City Lord are back! Our army is back!”

For a heartbeat, the farmers stared blankly. Then, with a shout, they flung down their tools and ran toward the road, voices ringing out.

“Great Jisi-daren!”

Qi Bai laughed and waved.
“Hei Yao is victorious! We’ve returned!”

“Hou! Hou hou!!”

The fervor spread like wildfire. Every beastman roared with excitement.

Qi Bai spotted many familiar faces among them.

Foremost were the Peng Ye beastmen who had fought alongside them.

Once, their desolate steppe had been scorned as savage and poor. Yet now, after only a few months, they had homes and wagons, sheep and farmland, lives full of food and drink.

The ones who taught them to farm told them it was all created by the Great Jisi himself. How could they not revere and worship Qi Bai wholeheartedly?

Qi Bai’s delight grew when he saw the Gelamu, Zi, and Tuohe clans as well.

Old Tuohe himself ran forward on still-supple legs.
“Great Jisi-daren, we did not fail your guidance—we found Hei Yao!”

Strictly speaking, that wasn’t accurate.

The three clans had marched northeast through snow, only to get lost. If not for Lang Zhan and Hu Qiao’s returning unit, they might have wandered all the way to Peng Ye.

But that didn’t matter. What mattered was that they had found this place, that they had migrated to the dreamlike Hei Yao.

All thanks to their Great Jisi and City Lord.

Qi Bai’s voice was warm with sincerity.
“The specters of the grasslands have been cleared away. That land is ours again—the steppe will always be our home.”

As the giant wolf carried them on, the Tuohe elder covered his face with rough hands, tears streaming.

The prairie they thought lost forever—was still their home. They still had a home.

---

The last crossroads before the city lay between the Zhong Lü and Zhu Ma clans.

The earliest settlers here had all gathered on either side of the road. Their faces showed no trace of worry this time.

Not only because the warriors were positioned on the flanks, greeting them as they passed, but because their hearts no longer wavered. They believed in their city, in their army.

The south gate of Hei Yao stood wide. Yang Luo and the others were already waiting beneath it.

Qi Bai dismounted from Lang Ze and strode forward smiling.

Seeing Qi Bai whole from head to toe, Yang Luo exhaled a long breath of relief.

But before he could speak, Hou Yan blurted,
“According to the blueprints you sent, we divided the Peng Ye beastmen into sixty villages, building their homes behind the Zhong Lü and other clans. They arrived during the busiest spring plowing, so stone buildings rose slowly. Fortunately the weather was fair, and no one froze.”

“You didn’t mention how to settle the Tuohe three clans, so we placed them beside the Peng Ye. Is that acceptable?”

Qi Bai grinned.
“Of course. We saw the villages on the way back. Grandpa Hou Yan, you did wonderfully.”

Though Qi Bai and Lang Ze had drawn up the plans, carrying them out was no small feat.

Hou Yan chuckled.
“You suffered enough outside. If we can spare you worry by handling things here, it’s only right.”

Yang Luo shoved him aside.
“You know they’re exhausted, and here you are rambling! City business can wait.”

Hou Yan hastily nodded.
“You’re right, you’re right.”

He shouldn’t have brought up business now. He just felt relieved and wanted to say something.

Yang Luo’s eyes flicked over Qi Bai. Somehow, everything about him looked thinner—his face, his limbs. Instead of saying so, he grumbled,
“The Beast God City is a rotten place. Don’t ever go again. If they’ve got guts, let them come fight here!”

The other old jisi snarled,
“Exactly! We’ll never go again!”

This wasn’t hollow bravado. They truly meant it.

Nearly a year had passed since they left last November. Day after day their hearts had been in their throats. When Lang Ji finally returned with news, it was of looming war.

All their awe for Beast God City had been ground away.

What did it matter, Beast God City? Unless the Beast God personally appeared before them, they wouldn’t believe.

And if He did, they would question Him closely—why choose those people?

Qi Bai nodded vigorously.
“Mm, mm. We won’t go.”

As for them attacking? Impossible.

On the known continent, nothing remained that could threaten Hei Yao. Their infamy likely spread everywhere. Who would be foolish enough to march against them now?

---

The column drew near. Not just soldiers, but villagers had followed hours to greet them.

The carts rolled through the south gate.

Ma Ling announced proudly,
“These are the spoils of our campaign.”

Qi Bai thought: once the old jisi saw this, their anger might ease.

At first, they scoffed at the few carts. Thirty thousand warriors, and only this?

But when the soldiers opened the carts to reveal heaps of bird-bones inside, the elders’ beards nearly flew off.

Lu Jian and Wu Rao threw down their staffs and dove straight in.

Not too few—more than enough!

Any one of these bones could trade for a wagon of meat. These weren’t mere spoils—they were mountains of gold!

Yun Zhang’s voice shook.
“Yang Luo-jisi, didn’t you just say to hold a feast? Let’s bring them in at once and start!”

Most important was to stash the treasures quickly. He couldn’t relax while they sat here in the open.

Yang Luo almost agreed—but spotted Tun Quan frowning behind the carts.
“What? You don’t want a feast?”

Caught, Tun Quan glanced at his mate Ma Mu, flushed from farmwork with their child on her back. He blurted,
“Jisi, what feast? We’ve work waiting at home.”

His mate was a healer—yet because Tun Quan was away at war, she’d had to labor in the fields under the hot sun. Their child too had suffered, since the city’s nursery was short-staffed.

The other soldiers said nothing, but their looks agreed.

They were the strongest, the biggest laborers in every family. Gone since winter, their households had depended on children, elders, and sub-beastmen. Now it was harvest. Who cared for banquets?

Yang Luo couldn’t hold his stern face, and laughed.
“You lot…”

Lang Ze ordered Tu Ya,
“Open the stores. Distribute a month’s rations to every warrior. Let them return home. Rewards will be given at the autumn festival.”

Tu Ya obeyed, leading a unit into the city to fetch food.

Tables were set at the gate. Warriors lined up by unit, stamped handprints, carried away their shares, and turned to join waiting families, beaming as they went.

All hearts aligned.

Nothing mattered more than their kin, their land. With hoes and sickles in hand, they felt secure again.

Zhong Lü-jisi was quick, rushing to rent carts to haul grain home. Other clan chiefs soon scrambled after him, afraid to miss out.

It wasn’t until night that all rations were distributed.

Only then did Qi Bai and Lang Ze return home.

Thanks to workers, the house was spotless despite nearly a year’s vacancy.

Qi Bai dropped his bags at the door, kicked off his shoes, and flopped spread-eagle on the sofa.
“Ahhh, home. Wonderful!”

Lang Ze closed the door and rubbed his head.
“Want a bath?”

Qi Bai tilted his head back against the sofa, nodding quickly.
“Yes, yes.”

Lang Ze went to the kitchen. The cabinets still had dry wood, the cistern fresh water. He lit the fire.

Qi Bai wandered in, propped his face on the counter, and teased without pause.
“Which horned beastman helps his mate boil bathwater? Ah, it’s my mate. No better mate in the world.”

The redder Lang Ze’s ears, the more Qi Bai praised, until Lang Ze strode over, swept him up, and set him on the counter.

“Mmph—” Qi Bai pressed a hand to his chest. “I want a bath!”

“Mhm. I’ll let you bathe.”

…

From kitchen to bedroom, Qi Bai was “bathed” repeatedly. At last he shifted into a snow leopard cub and leapt into a washbasin full of water.

“Meow-ao! Meow-ao!” he protested.

Lang Ze, content, rubbed his fluffy belly.

The clean cub shook himself on the mat, then bounded onto the bed and sprawled on the bamboo mat to dry. When it grew warm beneath, he simply rolled over.

Soon dry, he returned to human form, tumbling around cheerfully until, while Lang Ze stepped out briefly, he fell fast asleep.

Lang Ze returned, chuckling, and lay down to hold him close.

After such long hardship, and yesterday’s exertions, Qi Bai finally slept deeply.

---

When he woke, he sat on the wide windowsill, pushed open the shutters, and sunlight filled the room.

In the yard, workers laughed as they worked. The leisurely mood made Qi Bai smile wide.

Seeing Su Yu and Su Jian carrying baskets of vegetables, he stretched, dressed, and washed up.

Lang Ze had left for duties.

By the time Qi Bai reached the kitchen, Su Yu and Su Jian had already laid out food: fresh greens, peppers, soybeans, corn, tofu, flour, fresh meat, even a marrow bone.

Su Jian beamed.
“Great Jisi-daren, Yang Luo just slaughtered cattle. This meat is still steaming. The tofu and flour came from Ma Liang, just out of the pot.”

Qi Bai rubbed his hands.
“It’s been so long since I’ve had such fresh food. Leave it to me—I’ll cook.”

They grinned. Everyone knew the Great Jisi cooked best.

As they left, Qi Bai stopped them.
“Ah, I nearly forgot—the real matter. Congratulations. You’ve passed your trial. From today, you’re citizens of Hei Yao.”

Su Yu’s face lit, Su Jian hugged him.
“We’re Hei Yao people now!”

Soon, all twenty workers were gathered, rejoicing yet anxious.

Niu Wu blurted,
“Great Jisi, now that we’re Hei Yao beastmen, can we stay here working?”

Qi Bai smiled.
“Of course. The city lord’s mansion is far too large for just us two. I was planning to hire helpers. If you’re willing, stay. The dormitories remain open. If you move out, we’ll add that to your wages.”

“Great!”

“I’ll stay!”

“I’ll stay too!”

Eighteen stayed. Only Su Yu, talented at machinery, and Niu Qiao, gifted in farming, left for posts already promised.

Qi Bai led them to the Household Office for registration. Word spread instantly. Crowds gathered.

Hu Bu shouted,
“That’s my shiniang! First worker citizen of Hei Yao!”

Someone asked who his teacher was. Hu Huo kicked him before he could answer.

But Su Yu heard, and strode forward boldly.
“Hu Huo.”

Hu Huo froze—it was the first time in two years Su Yu had spoken his name.

“Will you be my mate?”

The crowd erupted.

Hu Huo stammered,
“I—I…” staring at his lame leg.

Smiling, Su Yu hung a bone pendant around his neck.
“You’ve accepted my token. That’s yes.”

“Yes!” “Yes!!” the crowd roared.

Mouse Lin tugged Qi Bai’s sleeve, laughing.
“Look, he’s burning red. Let him laugh at me now!”

Qi Bai laughed with him. After years of silent love, the two were finally together.

Hu Bu ran to fetch carts.
“Let’s move Shiniang’s things to Teacher’s house!”

As the crowd followed noisily, Cang Xie sidled to Mouse You.
“Our ancestors forbid Sangquan to marry outsiders.”

Mouse You blinked.
“Then don’t.”

Cang Xie: “…”

“…But maybe the ancestors weren’t right. They forbade leaving the Outer Lands too, and after we did, life improved.”

He coughed.
“So… we should marry outsiders.”

Mouse You: “…?”

What did this have to do with him?

---

For more than a month, Hei Yao bustled. After harvest, they prepared the autumn festival.

The whole city was strung with lanterns—bamboo cages shaped into animals, great lanterns on towers, strings across streets. Shops competed to decorate. Qi Bai even held a contest: the most popular shop won a bird-bone plaque.

On the day, every beastman wore their best, filling the square.

Children pointed.
“Look, the warriors!”

The troops marched out in formation. Parents boasted, children shone with admiration.

Even the priests and Seven Offices came, honored for their support roles.

Qi Bai and Lang Ze stepped onto the dais.

“The victory of Hei Yao belongs to every Hei Yao person!” Lang Ze’s deep voice rang.

Qi Bai raised his staff.
“May Hei Yao bless every loyal, diligent beastman. Let us forge our own glory!”

“HEI YAO! HEI YAO!! HEI YAO!!!”

---

Meanwhile, a thousand li away at Sacred Mountain—

Great Shensi Mu Wei had died. Mu Jia led troops to lock down Beast God City and convened the Twelve Shensi council. He became the first ever Shensi to ascend as Great Shensi—ushering in an era of divine rule.

In the south, Song Wu City, and in the center, Qingchi City, declared independence.

Hei Yao’s name spread across the continent—not as infamy, but as wealth and hope.

Countless tribes migrated north, converging like rivers into the sea.

Hei Yao had become the holy land all longed for.

---

The Hei Yao beastmen knew none of this. They reveled in the festival.

Qi Bai and Lang Ze slipped into the crowd.

There was commotion ahead—a flock of sheep, led by Chuan Chuan, trying to join the festival.

Handlers shooed them back.

Qi Bai and Lang Ze shared a look, then mischievously “stole” Chuan Chuan away.

“Baa! Baa-baa!”

At first it struggled, then seeing them, happily wagged its tail at Qi Bai.

Lang Ze scolded,
“You’re too big to be rubbing against people.”

“Baa-baa!”

“Shhh,” Qi Bai whispered.
“Want to go home and play?”

By “home” he meant their old house on Black Mountain.

“Baa!”

Whether or not it understood, it stomped proudly.

That night, with the gates left open for the festival, they slipped out with the sheep.

They climbed to the familiar terrace.

The old village was overgrown but intact.

They sat at the stone table, sipping apricot wine from bamboo tubes. The stars above and the city’s lights below painted a dreamlike scene.

Chuan Chuan butted at its old bamboo shed, far too small now.

Qi Bai teased,
“Careful, or you’ll collapse it on yourself.”

The sheep scampered back obedient

ly.

Lang Ze regretted bringing it—still so annoying.

Qi Bai patted its head.
“Good boy…”

Then suddenly, he transformed into a snow leopard cub.

Both Lang Ze and Chuan Chuan froze, staring in shock.

Lang Ze: “…”
Qi Bai: “…”

Joy surged in Lang Ze’s eyes.

The cub lifted a paw: Wait—wait a minute!

Chapter 365

Mu Jia’s reply came faster than Qi Bai expected. He readily agreed not only to the issues Qi Bai raised about commerce between the two sides but also to the resettlement and migration of displaced people.

This result was not outside Qi Bai’s expectations.

After all, the one who ultimately made decisions was the Great Shensi, and the Great Shensi was practically willing to hand the entire Shendian to Qi Bai—let alone a single grassland.

There was even something Mu Jia didn’t say out loud.

When Mu Wei heard that Qi Bai didn’t want the Beast God City but instead insisted on remaining in Beizhou, his first instinct had been to get up, lead the Mu Xiang clan, and follow Qi Bai back to Hei Yao.

Qi Bai’s complete lack of attachment to the eternally springlike Sacred Mountain, choosing instead to return north, was in itself proof that Beizhou was not ordinary.

Mu Wei had forced his eyes open.
“Perhaps the saying that the north is the dwelling place of the Beast God… was true all along. We should go north!”

“Red Chai is destroyed, no other tribe can cause much trouble. As long as I succeed you as Great Shensi, I can protect the Mu Xiang clan.”

Mu Jia dropped to his knees beside the bed.
“Mother-Father, I have come this far. Please help me. Don’t leave me, alright?”

That one cry of mother-father made Mu Wei fall silent, tears slowly welling as he stared at the canopy above.

Of course Mu Jia was not his own child. Mu Wei, awakened with the Qi Ling’s god-blood, was destined to devote everything to the Beast God, never to have children of his own.

But this boy, who had followed him ever since he could first take human form—how could he not have poured all his love and energy into raising him like his own son?

Once, little Mu Jia would cling to his knees and call him mother-father. In a blink, so many years had passed since he last heard that call.

Mu Wei had always known Mu Jia’s ambitions. He had never stopped him. Even after the Divine Child appeared, even knowing he would lose his hold on Mu Jia, he still gave him his bone token.

Mu Wei could not understand himself. Outwardly, he hoped Mu Jia would embrace the Divine Child and fulfill the Mu Xiang clan’s ancient wish. But deep down, he wanted his child to achieve his own goal.

His thoughts drifted who knows where, until at last he simply turned his head silently toward the bed’s inner side.

Mu Wei said nothing. But that silence was exactly what Mu Jia needed.

---

“You as the Divine Child will remain a secret. Even the rest of the Mu Xiang clan will not know.”

Qi Bai said,
“I have no interest in this title. But without a Divine Child, how will you deal with the Mu Xiang’s Summoning Plan?”

“I have other methods,” said Mu Jia.
“Don’t worry. My parents died because of that plan. I won’t let what happened to me happen again.”

Qi Bai nodded.
“Good.”

As he turned without a trace of longing, Mu Jia finally asked the question that weighed on him:
“The Beast God City is right here, within your reach. Once you leave now, you’ll never again have such a chance. Are you truly willing to give it up?”

Qi Bai stopped, amused, and looked back.
“Shensi-daren, you’ve chosen the wrong opponent. I never once thought of staying here. I’ve no interest in your Beast God City.”

Mu Jia said quietly,
“Even with the Great Shensi’s promises, you still guard against me.”

“It’s not that I guard against you—it’s that your schemes run too deep.” Qi Bai chuckled. “Let me guess a little.”

He raised one finger.
“If the Great Shensi’s words held weight, then when Hei Yao left Sacred Mountain’s market, you would have explained things to us.”

A second finger.
“Or, at Yan’a, you would have proactively allied with us to strike Red Chai together.”

A third finger.
“At the very least, now that we’ve reached the Beast God City, Bao Xi’s army should have returned to Ji City.”

“And yet—what happened?”

“At the market, you merely blocked Red Chai. Perhaps you thought: the Great Shensi won’t last long anyway, so letting Hei Yao return north was already the best outcome.”

“At Yan’a Canyon, you stood aside. If Hei Yao’s army hadn’t shocked you, perhaps you’d have struck us down right then.”

“And even now—look. Ji City and the Shendian armies are on full alert.”

“You are measuring and weighing whether Hei Yao’s Jisi and City Lord speak truth. The instant we showed even the slightest interest in the Great Shensi’s seat, you would’ve attacked without hesitation.”

Mu Jia’s pale eyes glimmered in the sunlight, his voice calm, not angry at being seen through.
“Since you already knew this, why dare come to Sacred Mountain at all?”

“If Hei Yao wanted your Sacred City, do you think we need to wait for timing?” Qi Bai winked.
“You don’t seriously believe Ji City and the Beast God City armies could frighten us? That Sacred Mountain’s walls could protect you?”

He gazed down at Hei Yao’s bustling camp.
“I simply won’t drag my people into pointless wars. I won’t let them bleed in vain.”

Mu Jia was silent for a while, then suddenly asked,
“And your question back then—what was your answer?”

Qi Bai blinked before realizing: Mu Jia was talking about the Star Banquet.

Back then he had asked Mu Jia—how would the Shendian handle natural disasters?

“There is no correct answer,” Qi Bai shook his head. “The point is how you see it.”

“Houses collapse—you rebuild. Droughts and floods—you treat them. Cold winters—you store grain. The key is whether those in charge want to help, want to save.”

A flicker of doubt crossed Mu Jia’s eyes.

Qi Bai said softly,
“You still don’t understand why we return to Beizhou, do you?”

“Because in Beizhou, my people await. They may not be my blood-kin, but as long as they are loyal to Hei Yao, I will protect them. For a day, a year—even for generations.”

To Qi Bai, the Shendian’s knowledge and experience of survival were not inferior to humans on Lan Xing. But they hoarded it, indifferent to their subjects’ lives. That was the real problem.

Truthfully, Mu Jia had courage and strategy. Qi Bai believed he had what it took to rule. But like all Shendian beastmen, he had not yet realized that while enjoying worship, they also bore responsibility.

Not that they had to “love the people like children,” but at least not abandon them. Without people, what meaning is there in territory?

Still, the Beastman Continent was not Lan Xing. There was no concept of a nation, let alone a true theocracy. Even tribes might not accept his views.

People’s thinking could not be changed overnight. Qi Bai had said his piece—now time must do the rest.

Hand in hand with Lang Ze, his figure disappeared at the stone stair’s end.

Mu Jia stared long at their departing backs before turning to ascend the steps himself.

---

Atop the mountain the winds shifted; below, the mood was much lighter.

Tun Quan had just set meat to roast when he noticed a pale, clean-looking beastman sneaking closer.

The fellow thought he was well hidden, crawling in the grass like a seal sniffing the air—yet Tun Quan had spotted him instantly.

Quietly stepping behind, Tun Quan tapped a fire stick against his palm and barked:
“A spy! Catch you and I’ll earn a reward.”

The pale beastman exploded like a firecracker, tumbling and waving his head desperately.
“No, no, no! I’m not a spy! My brother is Bao Xi, my father is Nie Shensi, my grandfather is Yong Shensi—I swear I’m not a spy!”

Qi Bai, walking over at the commotion, burst into laughter.

How could a spy recite his family tree before even being interrogated?

Tun Quan kept up the menace.
“Then why sneak into our camp?”

The pale youth pouted.
“I didn’t mean to! But what are you cooking? It smells so good I couldn’t resist!”

“Oh ho, isn’t that Bao Peng?”

At a familiar voice, the youth’s eyes lit.
“Luo Shu! You’re here?!”

Since it was someone known, Qi Bai waved warmly.
“Perfect timing. We’re making dinner. Come eat with us.”

By Lan Xing’s kinship reckoning, Bao Peng was a distant cousin. Taking care of a cousin wasn’t unreasonable.

Bao Peng’s eyes went round with delight. “How could I impose—” but his feet carried him over faster than anyone.

Reaching Qi Bai, he slowed, flashing a fawning smile at Lang Ze. Clearly, he had already sensed who here was least to cross.

Luo Shu, perched on a stump, handed Bao Peng a skewer.
“He’s Nie Shensi’s youngest son from Ji City. I traveled with him to Ji City before.”

Luo Shu coughed softly, muttering to Qi Bai and Lang Ze,
“Some of the news I got earlier came through him.”

Bao Peng, oblivious, happily munched his meat while squatting by Hei Yao’s charcoal pit.

Yes, a charcoal pit.

Unlike Qi Bai and Lang Ze who were busy negotiating, the beastmen in camp had free time.

Not wanting more burnt meat, Tun Quan and Xi Zhou had dug pits to make charcoal during off-hours.

With kilns back in Hei Yao, most clansfolk rarely made charcoal anymore—why bother when firewood could be traded for clean-burning charcoal? Many newer settlers had never made it at all.

But Tun Quan and Xi Zhou, veterans of the Black Mountain, had built many earth kilns before. So they casually buried wood in a pit and produced charcoal.

Luo Shu caught them and joined in. Now, roasting meat together in the pit, the lot of them feasted.

Bao Peng’s eyes widened as fat dripped and sizzled.
“So this is how you use charcoal.”

Luo Shu kicked him.
“You didn’t know I was here? When did you sneak over?”

Bao Peng plopped beside him, still chewing.
“Father said I was a nuisance, told me to train with my brother. I’ve been with Ji City’s troops the whole time.”

Yet despite that, he hadn’t seen Luo Shu’s Qingchi clan at the battle. Clearly, his training had gone to waste.

Luo Shu scowled.
“Your side’s strict. How’d you get out?”

“Didn’t sneak—I was peeing,” Bao Peng said cheerfully, eyes darting. He pointed at some warriors hauling huge logs.
“What are they doing? Why does Hei Yao cut so many trees?”

Logs two men thick, hard to chop—obviously not for firewood.

Luo Shu looked helplessly to Qi Bai.

Qi Bai only smiled, handing Bao Peng a pouch of spice powder.
“This is Hei Yao’s seasoning. Our meat tastes good because of this. Take it as a gift.”

Bao Peng’s eyes lit up. Food trumped all.

He eagerly accepted, forgetting all else.

Not one to take without giving, he fumbled until finally removing a fang from his neck.
“This is a flame-python fang. Not rare, but I killed it myself. For you.”

Before Qi Bai could reply, Lang Ze’s icy voice cut in:
“My mate doesn’t take another man’s trophies.”

Bao Peng’s hand didn’t even pause—he just curved it mid-air and handed it to Hu Xiao instead.
“Then you—”

Luo Shu snatched it.
“Enough. Give it to me. I’ll settle the score for you.” He shoved another skewer into Bao Peng’s hand.

Sensing the topic was closed, Bao Peng nonetheless soon began chattering again.
“Life in the wild is tough… but soon we’ll be leaving.”

Hu Xiao asked,
“Why?”

Bao Peng leaned close, lowering his voice.
“I heard the things Hei Yao wanted—Red Chai already gathered them.”

Luo Shu was shocked.
“So fast?”

Qi Bai too was surprised. He had given Red Chai ten days, ready to take action himself. He hadn’t expected them to be so… cooperative. Very unlike them.

Bao Peng grinned.
“How could they not? The other clans ‘helped.’”

Though Red Chai resisted, the other tribes forced them.

With Hei Yao camped right below Sacred Mountain, every day the Shensi awoke to the chants of Hei Yao’s drills, gazed down at ranks of grim warriors. Terrified, they only wanted Hei Yao gone.

So they hurried to gather the supplies.

But Red Chai alone could not. Even tearing down their housing would not suffice.

“No problem—other clans pitched in,” Bao Peng smirked.
“One gave a hundred carts of bird-bones, another two hundred carts of hides… soon it all added up.”

In truth, it was less Red Chai’s contribution than all the clans’ enforced “assistance.”

By the end, the other clans had almost nothing left in Beast God City.

Yet they didn’t feel cheated—they feared missing their turn. After all, this wasn’t free. Inspired by Qi Bai, they traded not only goods but territory.

No supplies? Fine—offer land or cities instead.

“They say Red Chai’s Shensi fainted from rage several times. Pity the Shendian has so many medicines. He can’t even die.”

Luo Shu clicked his tongue. Truly ruthless.

With most of their warriors dead, Red Chai’s lands and wealth stripped, they were finished. Perhaps that had been the others’ goal all along.

Bao Peng finally remembered his excuse. If he didn’t return, his clan would search for him.

He tucked away his spice pouch.
“Your food’s amazing. I’ll come to Beizhou myself one day.”

Qi Bai thought: in the next few years, your father and brother will never allow it.

As Bao Peng said, on the fourth day after Qi Bai and Lang Ze returned to camp—six days after the Twelve Shensi meeting—the gates of Beast God City opened.

Endless streams of horned beastmen hauled carts of supplies down the mountain.

The cargo was sorted and queued for Hei Yao’s inspection and loading. With so much, it took nearly a thousand Hei Yao warriors two full days to load everything.

Ma Ling stood by, eyes wide as bird-bones were stacked into carts.

From their shapes, it was clear Red Chai’s houses had literally been torn apart. The carved walls themselves were being carted off.

Such extravagance—the Shendian had used bird-bones for buildings. Ma Ling marveled.

Still, bird-bones could be reshaped, so he didn’t mind—even flat panels packed better.

After filling a cart, Ma Ling would press down hard, cramming in even one more sheet before approving. Only then could the cart be taken.

Mu Pi twitched his lips. He had never seen anyone more stubborn.

Ma Ling never cheated, but never lost either. A cart was a cart. Not one gap less. As Hei Yao’s chief quartermaster, only his approval made supplies valid.

Finally, Mu Pi handed him the last bundle of rope.
“This is the last batch. With this, all is complete.”

Ma Ling wrote it down, checked against the remaining empty carts, then closed his ledger.
“Matches on my end too.”

Mu Pi craned his neck at the paper and charcoal, eyes hungry.

Ma Ling waved the booklet.
“Convenient, right? Want one?”

Mu Pi’s eyes lit.
“Yes!”

But instead of giving it, Ma Ling eagerly explained:
“You can trade for it. One hide for one booklet. Cheap back in Hei Yao.”

Mu Pi: “…”

With goods tallied, Mu Pi left without a backward glance. Hei Yao were unbearable.

Ma Ling tucked away his ledger. Seems the Great Shensi’s personal Shensi wasn’t as wealthy as imagined.

The sleds were swapped for wheeled carts, all supplies bound tight.

Hei Yao kept their word. The very next morning, under countless watching eyes from Sacred Mountain, they marched away with the supplies.

Cang Xie lounged atop a laden bull, chewing grass.
“This city… not much after all. Hei Yao’s more fun.”

When Qi Bai and Lang Ze had first arrived, the world was frozen in ice. By the time they left, the snow had melted, buds swelled on branches—spring had come.

At the grassland’s edge, Luo Shu, carrying his share of spoils, bid farewell.

“Please spread word across the plains: Silver Moon and Hei Yao have returned.”

Luo Shu patted his chest.
“The plains’ guardians have come back. This news will fly like wings across the steppe.”