Chapter 163

Chapter 163

Night had fully fallen, and the sounds of shouting and movement echoed from outside.

Zhu Zhu lifted the door curtain and looked out carefully before turning to shout into the room, “The foraging team that went to the bamboo forest is back! They’re pushing the cart toward the school.”

Qi Bai replied quickly, “Got it, I heard!”

Moving swiftly, Qi Bai poured the meat soup from the clay pot into clay jars, wrapped them in animal hides, placed them into woven baskets, then bent down, hoisted a basket onto his back, and headed for the school. Several sub-beastmen followed behind him, also carrying baskets.

No matter whether the foraging team brought back winter bamboo shoots or pinecones, everything had to be preliminarily processed before being stored in the tribe’s warehouse.

The two largest buildings in the tribe were the nursery (two bedrooms and a common room) and the school. The nursery was meant for sleeping, so the more spacious school was better suited for work.

The school’s heating came from furnaces, but they weren’t like stoves—no clay pots sat on top. Since this was a place for lessons, cooking wasn’t allowed; otherwise, the smell would make it impossible for anyone to concentrate. Both furnaces had flat tops, only holding clay kettles for boiling drinking water. Cooking here wasn’t an option.

That’s why Qi Bai and Hu Xue prepared the food in the nursery and carried it over to the school.

Fortunately, the two buildings were only a few steps apart, so they didn’t have to worry about the food getting cold too quickly.

Ten large tree trunks had been stacked in the school hallway. Quan Lie and Hu Huo were discussing where to start cutting the logs.

Pig Fang, who had his head down, sniffled and looked up just in time to see Qi Bai and the others entering with baskets on their backs. He immediately stood up and shouted, “Brother Bao Bai, did you bring us food?”

Qi Bai placed the basket onto a tree stump used as a makeshift table. While unwrapping the animal hide, he replied, “You’ve got the sharpest nose. Dinner’s served!”

As soon as they heard that, everyone sprang into action.

Some had already heard the news and came with their bowls, lining up. Others had just returned and didn’t know food was being served—they bolted toward their homes shouting, “Save some for us!”

Yang Luo stood at the door, smacking one runner on the backside with his bear-bone cane. “You’re not going to miss a bite,” he shouted after them.

Hearing this, the rest of the tribe laughed cheerfully as they waited.

Some of them had spent the day digging in frozen earth, their limbs stiff from the cold. Their hands were still numb, and they had to cradle their bowls in their palms.

Others had spent the day hammering iron in the smithy, drenched in sweat, with arms still twitching from fatigue.

But no one complained. No one said life was hard. Seeing the food—especially the new sheep milk dishes—made them genuinely happy.

To them, this was the best life: warm housing, fine pottery and iron tools. A little hard work? Who cared? They were glad to work—if it meant bringing back food for the tribe, it was worth it.

Hu Xue and Qi Bai ladled two big scoops of beef and radish stew for each person, added a bit of pickled vegetables, and gave out a small piece of clarified butter.

Whether they bit into the meat and butter separately, or let the butter melt into the beef chunks, the flavor was rich and addictive.

Young Ma Xiang had broken his leg fighting a wild ox. Though it had mostly healed over the winter, Lang Ze still didn’t assign him to the hunting team—there were enough able-bodied warriors, and no need to risk someone who’d been injured.

Ma Xiang now tilted his head back to drink the last drop of soup from his bamboo bowl, then nibbled at his piece of clarified butter.

So delicious. If only he could get more… it just wasn’t enough.

Qi Bai heard Ma Xiang quietly muttering this to himself but said nothing.

It wasn’t greed—dinner really had more broth than meat or vegetables.

With food supplies running low, Qi Bai had discussed with Yang Luo that they should go back to communal meals. That way, not only could people focus better on their work, but they could also control food distribution.

Since receiving their homes, everyone had been cooking separately. It had been a while since they’d eaten together so lively.

The last group to return—the Shu Lin team from the pine forest—entered the school and were greeted by the sight of people eating and chatting cheerfully around the wooden stumps.

Only Hu Xue remained distributing food. Qi Bai and Sun Qing were busy carrying bundles of firewood to various corners of the school.

This firewood wasn’t for heating—after all, the school’s walls were warm thanks to the fire wall system. It was for lighting.

The day’s harvest of bamboo shoots and pinecones needed cleaning. The freshly felled trees had to be hollowed into barrels that night. Everyone was destined for an all-nighter.

Such a large space would need dozens of oil lamps for proper lighting. A firepile would be simpler and brighter.

The adults sat peeling pine nuts and bamboo shoots. The children helped, too—though calling it “helping” was generous; it was more like playing.

Bao Xing smeared sticky pine oil onto little Sun Yuan’s face. Before Sun Yuan could react, Bao Xing got slapped by Bao Yue.

Being younger, Bao Yue hadn’t been assigned to the hunting or coastal teams and already felt embarrassed. Seeing Bao Xing goofing off made her even more annoyed.

Bao Xing shrank his neck as if apologizing, then immediately smeared more pine oil down Bao Yue’s collar.

“You get back here!”

“Nope! I won’t!”

“Ha ha ha! Sister Bao Yue has a painted face!” “La la la!”

The kids ran wild through the school like it was New Year’s Eve, wearing only thin fur coats, chasing after each other.

Niu Xu shouted in alarm, “Careful! There’s hot water here—don’t get burned!”

Lu Guo, scrubbing animal hide in a barrel, laughed. “A little scalding’ll teach them what pain is.”

The wooden barrels were freshly hollowed out by the horned beastmen—rough and small, with visible chisel marks.

The animal hides had been brought over from storage by Qi Bai and Yang Luo. They were scraps—either torn during hunts or damaged during tanning.

Though scraps, nothing was ever wasted in Heishan.

Even with their modest sewing skills, the tribe could stitch two pieces of hide together easily. These scraps were typically used for making fur hats or gloves.

Now, they served another purpose.

When churning sheep milk, a hide was placed over the barrel to prevent splashing. That hide needed a hole cut in the center—using a whole new piece would be wasteful. Scraps were perfect.

But whether hide or barrel, both needed to be clean. That’s why Lu Guo and her team were boiling water in a corner of the school for washing.

The noisy cubs made the adults relax. Even the repetitive chores didn’t feel so boring anymore.

No one knew how much time passed. Qi Bai finally set down his stone mallet and drill, cracking his neck loudly.

He looked at the night sky. It was likely 11 or 12 PM. He told everyone, “Let’s stop for tonight. We’ll finish the rest tomorrow.”

Quan Lie replied, “You go ahead. I’ll finish this one last barrel before heading out.”

Qi Bai looked at the barely-started barrel and said, “Grandpa Quan Lie, there’s no rush. Get some rest—tomorrow we’ve got to fish.”

As Qi Bai went to the wall to count the barrels, Yang Luo stepped up. “Enough, let’s go. If you don’t leave, Bao Bai will stay too. No one will get to sleep.”

Quan Lie sighed, “You’ve got a point. I’ll go now.”

But even as he left with the others, he didn’t let go of his piece of wood—clearly planning to keep chiseling at home.

Meanwhile, Qi Bai, holding a torch, had finished counting.

Just tonight, they’d made 42 barrels. Each was draped with damp hide, and there were enough ready for tomorrow’s butter churning.

Qi Bai had been going nonstop since morning—sending off two expeditions, making fried milk and clarified butter, then hammering barrels all evening.

As he fed firewood into the stove, he gave himself a mental thumbs-up.

Seriously, even he admired himself. Human potential was limitless—if you squeeze hard enough, there’s always more to give.

What was that saying? You can enjoy endless blessings, but you can’t avoid hardship.

Qi Bai sat on the kang, untied the rawhide strings from his boots, kicked them off, pulled the blanket over himself, and lay down.

The hunting team had only been gone a day. They were likely still crossing the plains near Heishan. The coastal team should reach the sea tomorrow night—he hoped they’d find shelter.

The kang wasn’t warm yet, but Qi Bai didn’t feel cold. His mind buzzed with random thoughts.

Soon, soft snoring rose from the bed.

—

At sunrise, the people of Heishan had already finished breakfast and were dragging fishing gear toward the Cannibal River.

In just three or four days, the ice that Niu Xin had trampled had refrozen.

But this time, no one was fooled by the smooth surface. Everyone stepped with extreme caution.