Chapter 206

“Ah?” Yang Luo blinked in surprise at the shout. “Yan? Which Yan?”

Yan, seeing their confusion, shouted back, “I’m Yan from the Xiangke Tribe—the one who traded Xiangke at Trading Day! I even helped you trade pelts!”

At Yan’s words, Xizhou from behind the group stepped forward, brusquely pulling the bound beast-folk who had been squirming within the circle. He brushed aside Yan’s straw-filled hair and wiped grime and dirt from his face—and recognized him.

Dropping him to the ground, Xizhou muttered, “He is from the Xiangke Tribe.”

Yan crawled forward, trying to throw himself at Qi Bai’s feet.

Wolf Ze was quick—he pulled Qi Bai back out of reach.

Yan tumbled face-first but remained undeterred. Looking toward Qi Bai with desperation, he cried, “Sir! Please—don’t kill me! Don’t kill me!”

Qi Bai peeked out from behind Wolf Ze to inspect his face more clearly. Though they hadn’t seen each other in over a year—and had few outsiders visit the beast world—Qi Bai recognized him after a moment.

He frowned. “Your tribe was doing fine. How did you become a slave?”

At those words, Yan’s heart jumped. He scrambled to his feet and spun in place with wide arms. “I don’t have a slave mark! We’re not slaves!”

Seeing Wolf Ze’s wary expression, Yan quickly added, “We didn’t try to steal your food. We Xiangke people stayed at the back—no one tried to come forward.”

“They made us do it,” he sobbed, pointing at the bound crowd. “It was their idea—it wasn’t us!”

That much was true: since the older crowd had refused to attack and they lacked enough ropes, Yan’s group had been corralled into the wagon enclosure.

Qi Bai was about to ask more when he said, “Come with me.”

Wolf Ze stepped back, turning to Ma Ling. “We’ll stay here overnight. You help guard them—nobody can get away.”

“Okay,” Ma Ling nodded. “I’ll make sure they don’t cause trouble.”

She waved to a few warriors with ropes and led them toward the wagons.

Yan’s legs turned weak as he followed Qi Bai.

Though Yan’s combat prowess likely didn’t rival many in Xiangke, he had an unparalleled skill: he remembered faces. Every person he interacted with was stored in memory. That was why he became the Xiangke trading team’s captain.

He recognized Wolf Ze’s face too—but when they’d first met, Yan was at the back of the line, and once the fight started, Wolf Ze had already shifted into beast form. Having never seen him in his beast form, Yan hadn’t connected the two identities.

Later, when he and the others were driven into that huddled group, he dared not look around—fearful of drawing attention until Qi Bai and co. approached.

He quietly wiped sweat from his forehead. Before seeing Qi Bai, he’d believed they would die here.

Thank goodness for this sub-beastman! He’d traded Xiangke to them—these people mustn’t be bad.

Qi Bai led Yan beside the caravan. “You said you didn’t run with those slaves?”

Yan finally tore his eyes away from the wagon. No wonder they could bring wooden tents to the tribe—Heishan tribes built sturdier shelters than he’d ever seen.

When Qi Bai asked, Yan straightened up and collected his thoughts before explaining:

Yan wasn’t great with dates or timelines, but Qi Bai reconstructed the story from his words:

The bound ones with burn marks were escapees from Sanghuo. They’d fled north together.

Because so many fled, they quickly consumed any Xiangke provisions taken in the chaos.

With the ideal hunting season passed, they wandered, devouring every plant along the land like locusts.

Eventually, realizing that stealing from smaller tribes yielded more food in shorter time, they chose raiding over hunting.

Within that group, many had originated from North Wasteland small tribes—some knew Xiangke’s location, so once their group started raiding, Xiangke suddenly got attacked too.

Qi Bai asked skeptically, “You say they looted food from your tribe—why did you go with them?”

Yan looked sheepish. It wasn’t like they formed a burrowed alliance. “Our winter food stores were already stolen. We couldn’t survive here. So we gathered what remained and ran with them.”

In reality, they joined the raiders.

With every new raid, their numbers grew—starting from 800, they swelled to over 1,000.

Qi Bai massaged his temples. This was the primitive version of a “rebel army”—with recruitment tactics. If they hadn’t run into Heishan, they might’ve formed a serious force.

But such a force would likely become another Sanghuo-like power.

Wolf Ze asked with cold precision, “Did you think they were taken by Heishan?”

Yan stiffened and admitted, “That was our guess.”

“That morning, after Heishan left Trading Day and around noon, Sanghuo’s tents burned. Slaves took advantage of the chaos and escaped. You had already completed your trades. Seeing so many Sanghuo tribesmen asking for news of Heishan… we assumed you’d abducted them.”

At that moment, Yan froze—realizing only then that he had forgotten to mention his own tribe.

“I… I mean…” he stammered, “They are Sanghuo’s slaves. They couldn’t stay in the North Wasteland. Somebody suggested fleeing toward the north, where the Beast God dwells…”

But not everyone found safe paths. They had waded through the Xi river and reversed for two wild months before stumbling into Heishan territory.

Qi Bai and Wolf Ze exchanged glances.

When Sanghuo troops pursued Heishan, the defense at Trading Day must have been lax. These slaves likely seized the gap and departed.

Xiangke—like the other tribes present—probably hadn’t known Sanghuo would send troops, and found it hard to believe Sanghuo slaves would willingly escape. They blamed Heishan for abducting them.

Qi Bai and Wolf Ze quickly realized the issue.

Even Sanghuo’s retained Trading Day slaves were prisoners of war—who hadn’t been broken. Yan’s story implied one person in that group led decisions and the flows of escape.

Yan looked confused. “We didn’t know if any one person was in charge.”

Though the leader wasn’t identified, Qi Bai now clearly understood this group’s origin.

Yan, being led away, glanced longingly at Qi Bai—only by looking at him could he feel safe.

Then Yang Luo, who had been silent, placed a trembling hand on his heart. “This is bad—Sanghuo will remember this. They might attack us. Quick—send their slaves back.”

For so long, Yang Luo had believed that as long as Heishan lay well to themselves in the north, nothing would trouble them—yet troubles just kept appearing.

Qi Bai put a hand on Yang Luo’s shoulder: “Master, it’s not just about returning slaves anymore.”

Sending them back now would invite trouble. They’d be easy prey.

Now, Heishan needed to keep them temporarily.

Qi Bai tried to reassure. “The tribe needs manpower—they’ve given us that.”

Yang Luo pressed a trembling finger: “Those are escaped slaves—they’ll obey?”

Wolf Ze didn’t blink. “Kill the ones who resist. When enough fear spreads, the others fall in line.”

Yang Luo still fretted: “And Sanghuo?”

Wolf Ze’s voice hardened. “Then we fight. Heishan warriors never yield.”

Yang Luo’s knees buckled. “Sanghuo is one tribe—but Eastern Yi had three of the largest tribes combined. What will we do?”

Qi Bai shook his head and opened the wagon flap: “No use worrying now. Rest inside.”

Qi Bai stayed behind to reassure Yang Luo, while Wolf Ze went to assess arrangements.

Wolf Ze had led eighty patrol and hunting warriors; plus the 70 Ma Ling rallied—150 in total.

They were divided into squads of five, forming a tight outer ring around the captives.

Thirty bright bonfires were lit, warding off the night’s chill. With rotating guard, no creature—not a bug—could cross Heishan’s defenses.

Ma Ling came to Wolf Ze, pointing to the captive group. “Pretty secure, right?”

They’d even removed the surrounding wagons and bound over three to four hundred people with thick grass ropes.

These ropes—rough and 10 cm in diameter—made specifically for tripping prey, combined with Heishan’s knot skill, couldn’t be broken even by strong horned warriors.

Importantly, Ma Ling separated them: horned warriors bound while in human form, sub-beasts in beast form.

Beast forms under half a meter can slip free easily; if tied while in human form, some could escape.

“Excellent,” Wolf Ze nodded. He then asked Niu Shuo, “Did your tribesmen find any of your people?”

Niu Shuo shook her head in disappointment—no familiar faces among them.

Wolf Ze patted her shoulder thoughtfully. “Those tied today were freshly made slaves—we can’t expect your kin to appear here anyway. Go get something to eat.”

Though the hunting season had passed, the patrol still brought back game. Instead of cooking it, they roasted dried tofu on bone knives over flames.

The slaves, starving, gazed but couldn’t reach—as they were bound tight.

They probably wished someone would cut them loose—they were cold, weak, and couldn’t run even if freed.

But Heishan warriors didn’t care—if anyone talked back, Ma Ling would wrap rope tighter.

The slaves, seeing this, dared say nothing.

Meanwhile, in the bundle of sub-beastfolk and cubs, a little fox peeked out and inhaled the scent of roasting tofu. Slipping into a hushed space, he rested his head under his tail, nibbled a hidden piece of meat, and drifted off to sleep in peaceful warmth.