Chapter 165

Chapter 165

When Qi Bai and Diao Lan finished setting the fish traps and returned with the team, Tu Ya and Hu Huo had just pulled up the third net full of fish.

Seeing Qi Bai return, the others shouted like eager schoolchildren wanting praise:

“Leopard Bai, look! We caught a whole bunch of fish again!”

But someone even more impatient interrupted them. Leopard Xing, with snot running down his face, slipped and ran to Qi Bai, grabbing his hand and saying:

“Brother Leopard Bai, you’ve been with them all day—come see us too! We did even better!”

Tu Ya laughed and scolded:

“If you did well, that’s fine, but why compare yourself to us? Do you still want to eat the fish we caught tonight or not?”

Leopard Xing shut his mouth tight, frowning. This was a hard choice. He had worked so hard today, but he really wanted to eat the fish too. What a dilemma.

Before dawn, Zhu Zhu had arrived at the cubs’ room.

The little ones had played wild in the school hall until late last night and were now sleeping like piglets with their butts sticking up.

Zhu Zhu didn’t waste time talking. She started patting the edge of the kang bed while pulling off their blankets.

Li Li blinked in confusion, lying on the bed, pouting and whining that he hadn’t slept enough.

Zhu Zhu smirked. “Exactly.” She had told them over and over last night:

“Adults will be working in the cub room in the morning—go sleep!”

But not one of them listened.

And now they wanted to sleep in? Too late. She forced them up fast.

Once the young beastmen in both rooms groggily climbed out of bed, Hu Xue and her team came in carrying two buckets of goat milk each.

The collection team had gotten up even earlier. First, they went to the school to fetch buckets, then milked the goats in the stone pen.

Why not make the butter in the school hall where it’s more spacious?

There were good reasons:

1. The school didn’t have a big ceramic pot for boiling milk.
2. Ma Shu, who had just recovered, was still in the school teaching people how to make wooden buckets and weave fishing nets.

Qi Bai had stressed that all utensils for food—including milk buckets and animal hides—must be cleaned thoroughly with hot water. The school, filled with sawdust and wood chips, clearly wasn’t suitable.

So no, Zhu Zhu wasn’t being harsh on the cubs. They truly needed the room. And compared to the adults, the cubs had already gotten more sleep. Zhu Zhu only started waking them once Hu Xue’s group arrived.

Kids are full of energy. Even though they were sleepy at first, once they washed their faces, they bounced back and followed the adults to help with chores.

They carried firewood inside, helped stir the milk over the fire, and the older ones even grouped up to help the sub-beastmen churn the milk.

Once the room’s door was closed, it was invisible from outside—but inside, every beastman was busy regardless of age.

That included Leopard Xing, who had done a great job today. His milk churning was so good that Hu Xue sent him out to deliver a message.

Leopard Xing thought hard, then finally said reluctantly,

“Okay, let’s say we both did well.”

Qi Bai chuckled,

“You’re so capable—why didn’t you stay home? Why come looking for me?”

Leopard Xing stomped, suddenly remembering:

“Right! The milk from yesterday smells sour! Grandpa Priest told me to come get you!”

Qi Bai raised an eyebrow and handed the ice-drilling tool to Diao Lan, glancing at the now well-organized fishing team.

“I’ll go check on that first.”

Yesterday, Qi Bai had just stacked the milk in a corner but forgot to tell everyone that the milk used to make milk tofu would develop a slight sour smell during fermentation.

Diao Lan nodded seriously,

“Go quickly.”

Beastmen usually judged food freshness quite roughly. Though they had discovered salt-preservation methods, there wasn’t enough salt for proper curing, so most meat wasn’t preserved well. In winter, that was manageable, but in spring and summer it spoiled fast.

Even spoiled meat was still eaten if not too far gone.

This kind of poor hygiene sometimes led to illness. Diarrhea from eating bad food wasn’t uncommon.

But diarrhea isn’t minor. Even healthy people could dehydrate after two or three days—let alone beastmen with no medicine or hospitals. Bacterial or fungal infections could kill.

So when Qi Bai first saw them eating spoiled food, he had firmly explained the dangers and how to judge spoilage—like the sudden sourness.

After a tribe-wide meeting, even the stingiest elders began remembering his advice. They realized Black Mountain Tribe didn’t lack salt. No need to risk their lives saving it.

Eventually, the habit of wasting food by letting it spoil almost vanished.

That’s why when Leopard Xing mentioned sour milk, Diao Lan took it seriously.

When Qi Bai followed Leopard Xing back to the cub house, Yang Luo was squatting near the milk pile from yesterday. The covering stone slab had been moved aside, and the room had a faint sour smell.

It didn’t smell like yogurt—it was more like spoilage.

Hearing the door open, Yang Luo looked up,

“Is this stuff spoiled?”

Qi Bai removed his cloak and fur hat at the door before walking over to check.

Among the five milk containers in the corner, three gave off a strong sour odor and had irregular white clumps floating in them.

Qi Bai said,

“These three are spoiled and unusable.”

He tasted a bit from the remaining two,

“These two are still good.”

Although three containers were wasted, Qi Bai wasn’t too upset. They didn’t have access to starter cultures, so fermentation was unreliable.

Yang Luo wrinkled his nose.

“So how can we use it?”

Qi Bai ignored his doubts, picked up the two usable jugs, and entered the inner room.

Before even lifting the hide curtain, Qi Bai was hit with a strong milky aroma. Inside, it was overpowering—like stepping into a cloud made of milk.

He asked,

“Can I use one of the stoves?”

Hu Xue responded from the innermost corner,

“Come over here. My pot’s almost done.”

Skimming off the whey from the fermented milk, Qi Bai left the tofu-like curds in the ceramic pot and began stirring with a wooden spatula.

Eventually, the bits fused into one bouncy, stretchy lump like dough. Some parts even pulled into strands as he scooped it out.

Hu Xue asked,

“Is this milk tofu?”

Qi Bai nodded, tore off a few pieces, and handed them to the watching group.

Dai stuck out her tongue, wincing,

“Why does it taste like… that?”

Qi Bai smiled and tore off a piece for himself. Fresh milk tofu did taste a little sour—maybe even slightly rancid. For beastmen unfamiliar with yogurt, it could be hard to accept.

But not everyone disliked it. Niu Xu and Niu Xi, despite being different bovine types, both clearly enjoyed it.

Niu Xi puffed out her cheeks, nodding enthusiastically,

“The more I chew, the better it tastes! Leopard Bai, you’re amazing!”

Qi Bai told Yang Luo,

“Milk tofu and butter both store well. Let’s make more. If some people don’t like milk tofu, they can eat more butter instead.”

Yang Luo nodded, but hesitated,

“That’s fine, but… this tofu seems like too little.”

Though it looked like a dough ball, that butter came from one bucket of milk, while this tofu took five. If they kept doing it this way, it’d be wasteful.

Qi Bai shook the ceramic jar with the leftover sour milk,

“It’s only wasteful the first time. This leftover can be used as a starter. If we add a bit to every new batch, we won’t fail again.”

Yang Luo looked from Qi Bai to the jar in his hands, nodding blankly.

Hu Xue stepped in,

“I’ll go check how many new buckets we have at the school. We’ll milk more goats and add the starter.”

Yang Luo clapped,

“Great, go ahead.”

Milk tofu needed to rest in the bucket, which meant once again—they were short on buckets.

The 40+ buckets Hu Xue brought back that morning were in constant rotation: for milking, churning, and fermenting. They’d need to fetch more from the school again.

By nightfall, teams returning from the pine and bamboo forests arrived, and the cub room became even livelier.

Near the entrance, a large ceramic pot of golden butter was slowly stirred, waiting for the final water to evaporate before plating.

Farther in, sub-beastmen churned milk in buckets on the ten-meter-long heated kang. On the floor below, some were gutting fish and mixing minced fish meat, while others cracked pine nuts with stones.

Qi Bai dug fish bladders from fish bellies, tossing them into a dedicated ceramic pot to later make isinglass.

Nearby, Shu Lin crushed pine nuts under stones. While others struggled to keep the kernels whole, Shu Lin pressed one after another with perfect rhythm—crack, pop, clean split. It was oddly satisfying to watch.

Qi Bai thought to himself,

“Keep cracking. The more, the better. Tonight, I’m making pine nut monster fish.”