Chapter 185

Beside the lush green fields, four members of the Jufeng (Giant Wind) tribe entered the wooden shelter under Qi Bai’s greeting.

After traveling for most of the day, the group was drenched in sweat from the blazing sun. Yet, the moment they stepped into the shelter, the heat seemed to evaporate, replaced by a refreshing hint of bamboo fragrance that cleared the mind.

The tables and chairs inside were made to suit the size of the Heishan (Black Mountain) tribe members, but in front of the nearly three-meter-tall Jufeng visitors, they looked quite miniature. A long bamboo bench that normally seated four could now barely hold two.

Qi Bai needed space to sit across from them, so he arranged the four into two tables. Fortunately, the pavilion was large, with more than a dozen tables—enough to fit even forty Jufeng members if needed.

“Dai,” Qi Bai called out toward the edge of the field where the children were playing.

Hearing her name, Dai quickly stood up, slung her small bamboo bow over her shoulder, and scampered over. “Brother Bao Bai!”

Qi Bai subtly pointed to the tall Jufeng members behind him. “Are you afraid of them?”

Peeking from behind the bamboo curtain, Dai looked at the mountain-like figures curiously and replied crisply, “Not afraid.”

Qi Bai ruffled the little buns on her head. “Then come help me host them.”

Dai nodded seriously and obediently walked inside, heading to the table where two of the giants were already seated.

Seeing Qi Bai bring Dai over, the four towering Jufeng warriors looked at them curiously, especially at the double-bun-haired Dai and the strange-looking toy strapped to her back…

—It had to be a toy, right? Every child seemed to be holding that small odd thing.

Meeting Dai’s wide, curious eyes, the two giants appeared a bit nervous. The round-nosed one scratched his knee under the table and said, “I… I’m Wei, and this is Peng.”

Wei tried to speak softly, but he underestimated his own voice. The vibration caused Dai’s hair buns to tremble—but she remained unbothered.

Looking up at the two giants she had to crane her neck to see, Dai thought for a moment, then climbed up the bamboo bench using both hands and feet. Standing atop it so her eyes were nearly level, she nodded in satisfaction. “I’m Dai.”

Remembering what Qi Bai said earlier, she mimicked his tone and declared, “I’ll make you flower milk tea.”

On the other side, Qi Bai, hearing their conversation, relaxed.

He already knew Wei and Peng—they were the ones who had dumped Lang Ji and his team in the grass ditch. But the other two, Zhi and Ai, were new to him. From their behavior, it was clear the smallest of them, Zhi, was likely the leader.

Qi Bai flipped over the bamboo cups on the table and retrieved two large bamboo tubes—one filled with cooled goat milk and the other with golden flower tea. The chilled water in the large barrel came from the mountain spring near the waterfall, fetched by Qi Bai at dawn. Kept in the shade, it stayed refreshing all day—perfect for summer drinks.

There was actually a small story behind this tea setup.

As the weather grew hotter, a half-day in the fields left everyone parched. Luckily, Lang Ze’s team had built this large pavilion. Outside it, a small stove was set up where water was boiled in ceramic pots. By the time work ended, the water would be cool and ready to drink.

Because the pavilion was located right at the base of Heishan, it became a resting spot for the hunting and gathering teams returning to the tribe—essentially transforming into a makeshift tea shop.

And how could a tea shop have no tea?

For Heishan folks, just having cool water was already a luxury. But Qi Bai thought differently.

He believed that eating and drinking well were essentials of life. If you didn’t care about those, your mind was probably off. You could tell by how he spent over six months just making soy sauce—he never thought food was troublesome.

That attitude led to meaningful changes in the pavilion.

First—real tea.

Qi Bai had tried brewing leaves that resembled tea, but aside from Lang Ze politely humoring him, most people grimaced and waved it off.

They all said, “Bao Bai, we don’t like bitter leaves. Got anything sweet?”

Sweet leaves? No. But sweet flowers? Possibly.

Since spring had arrived, the land was bursting with color, and countless small flowers bloomed. After testing many kinds, Qi Bai settled on a golden five-petal flower for tea-making.

These flowers bloomed in patches throughout the forest, somewhat like forsythia, but with a sweet floral flavor. Tribe members loved the taste, and the once-abundant yellow flowers were now nearly picked clean.

After all, Qi Bai had told them: “Clean and dry the flowers now, and you’ll still have sweet tea to drink next year.”

To a tribe that once knew hunger, any food that could be stored was precious.

Because of all this backstory, the four Jufeng guests were now drinking fresh flower milk tea personally prepared by Qi Bai.

Zhi accepted the bamboo cup with one hand and ran her other hand along the finely crafted bamboo table and chairs.

The Jufeng tribe had seen bamboo before—but never as polished furniture. Just touching it, Zhi couldn’t fathom how such delicate craftsmanship was possible.

Even earlier, from afar, the thirty-meter-long pavilion had amazed them.

Last time Wei and Peng had snuck in to observe Heishan’s fields, none of this structure existed. Yet after just ten or so days trapped in the stone forest, the Heishan tribe had built this beautiful building.

Especially the bamboo-tiled roof—so neat and tidy, it felt unreal.

Is this what the rest of the Beastman Continent outside the Stone Forest was like?

They had pure white salt, beautiful homes, and even better-tasting water than theirs.

Zhi, who had never seen other beastmen beyond the forest, felt a tidal wave of revelation rolling through his heart, leaving him momentarily stunned.

At that moment, Hu Meng returned from the tribe with Lang Ze and Diao Lan.

While Zhi secretly observed the tribe, Qi Bai was also observing them.

The four Jufeng members were young—likely neither chief nor shaman—so Qi Bai didn’t summon Yang Luo or Hou Yan.

If Zhi could make decisions for Jufeng, then he and Lang Ze—both mid-level leaders—could negotiate. If Zhi had no say, then there was no point in involving Heishan’s higher-ups either. Equal status was key in diplomacy; otherwise, when the Jufeng chiefs showed up, Heishan would appear inferior.

Whether Jufeng held the same view or not, the rules of intertribal diplomacy had to be followed.

Unlike the always-smiling Qi Bai, Lang Ze’s sharp demeanor and crisp words instantly sobered up Zhi and Ai.

Lang Ze spoke directly: “Heishan tribe migrated here from the east during the great rains. We saw no signs of other tribes in the Beast God’s resting land, so we chose it as our territory.”

The meaning was clear: Heishan was new, but they followed protocol. They checked for others first—it wasn’t an intentional land grab.

When the Jufeng team dragged the hollow trunk to Heishan, Qi Bai and Lang Ze had guessed the Jufeng tribe must be nearby—probably within two days’ travel, otherwise they couldn’t have arrived so quickly.

In reality, Heishan and the Stone Forest were less than a day apart.

But due to the wide hunting ranges of beastmen, tribal territories rarely overlapped so closely.

Lang Ze explained this upfront to avoid unnecessary conflict.

Zhi nodded—they wouldn’t deny this.

After leaving the old Jufeng settlement on the grasslands and migrating north to a hidden territory, they had erased all traces of their presence. In all these years, Zhi had never encountered other beastmen.

Lang Ze continued, “Some of our tribe members were killed by other beastmen. To ensure Heishan’s safety, we must investigate surrounding tribes. We need to know clearly—are you friend or foe?”

Honestly, the best person to connect with the Jufeng would have been Diao Lan. She’d once been to their tribe and seen the remnants of their battlefield. Her presence might’ve eased suspicion.

But Diao Lan refused.

She said, “I want to be part of Heishan. But I must keep my secret. I won’t endanger myself or the tribe because of where I came from.”

So Lang Ze never mentioned the Silver Moon Tribe or the White Wolf Clan. He simply said they’d been persecuted and forced north by the floods.

That alone stirred deep resonance with the Jufeng members. Though Zhi and Ai hadn’t lived through those terrifying days, they’d been taught that the outside world was dangerous—that only within the Stone Forest could the Jufeng survive.

So Zhi didn’t ask further. Instead, he posed his main concern: “Then how do you know about the Jufeng tribe?”

Wu Rao had once said—even on the grasslands, Jufeng kept isolated. He had never heard of a Heishan tribe.

“We have members who migrated from the grasslands. There are legends of giants,” Lang Ze explained. Then, after a pause, he mentioned the traces Diao Lan had found in the Jufeng village.

Though Zhi tried to remain stoic, his eyes clearly trembled.

Aside from Wu Rao, no one else should’ve known those details—unless… unless they were attackers…

But he quickly dismissed that thought. The Heishan tribe had many members, and Lang Ze’s strength alone was formidable. If they meant harm, they wouldn’t be offering tea and honest talks.

At last, Zhi’s tightly held nerves relaxed. He glanced at Ai, intending to confer.

But Ai was busy clutching his bamboo cup, nervously waiting for a female beastwoman to refill it. His eyes even strayed enviously toward Wei and Peng’s table.

Forget it. No point relying on them.

Zhi took a deep breath. “In the name of the Beast God, the Jufeng tribe is friendly. We wish to become allies with the Heishan tribe. And we hope to establish trade between our two peoples.”