Chapter 235

Stir-fried lamb with scallions, beef meatball soup, plus a vine-gourd flatbread—Qi Bai packed the dishes into bamboo tubes, sealed them, and placed them in a small bamboo basket lined with beast hide. Carrying the basket, he stepped out of his home.

From the tribe, it was a little over thirty minutes’ walk, circling to the far side of Heishan, to reach the workers’ quarry.

It was a vast stone valley, enclosed on three sides by mountains, filled with Heishan’s unique black rock. Even after nearly three months of mining by hundreds of workers, they had only chipped away a corner—barely touching the mountain’s heart.

Inside the valley, rubble and dust lay everywhere. Every so often, a bonfire of stones smoldered, with crude stone pots balanced on top—makeshift cauldrons crafted by the workers themselves while cutting rock.

Qi Bai entered the quarry’s shadow. It was lunchtime, so only faint hammering echoed from the deepest part.

Most workers sat around the fires, warming themselves, sometimes scooping steaming water from the stone pots with bamboo bowls. The terrain blocked the wind, making this place—usually cool in summer—surprisingly warm compared to outside.

“Bao Bai! What brings you here?” Niu Xi waved, brushing off a space beside her with a branch. “Come, sit.”

Before Qi Bai could answer, she smacked her forehead. “Oh! I almost forgot—Lang Ze’s working at the quarry today. You came looking for him, didn’t you?”

In just half a day, neat and tidy Niu Xi had turned gray with dust. As she slapped her forehead, bits of stone trickled down from her hair like snow.

Qi Bai’s fussing habit kicked in. “Why aren’t you wearing your mask again? Even if you’re not chiseling, you still need one.”

Heishan stone, though strong, produced dust during mining. Without protection, lungs would suffer over time. The quarry issued each worker a hide mask—warm, and filtering dust.

Niu Xi gave an embarrassed laugh. The quarry was loud; even to talk, she had to shout. Wearing a mask made it worse, so if she was standing back, she’d often skip it.

Curious, she asked, “But how did you notice?”

Qi Bai chuckled. “Everyone else has dust all over their mouths and noses. Yours are clean. Pretty obvious.”

While they talked, Lang Ze emerged from deeper inside, pulling on a hide coat.

Every gaze snapped toward him instantly.

Horned-beastmen had many ways to quarry—especially since their beast forms could serve as tools. Larger forms meant faster work.

But today, they finally learned what absolute strength looked like.

Even in human form, Lang Ze worked faster than anyone else.

Of course, as Heishan’s hunting captain, his strength was expected. But when he stripped off his coat to work, revealing the slave brand behind his ear, the entire quarry erupted.

They were all horned-beastmen—who didn’t dream of becoming stronger?

To realize even a slave, in Heishan, could grow powerful and lead—it was more shocking than when they saw him crush Sanghuo.

That moment lit a fire in everyone’s hearts.

Especially the newly found wolf cubs—seeing Lang Ze was like seeing faith itself. They vowed to grow strong like him.

Lang Ze, however, ignored all the awed stares. His stride was steady, eyes fixed only on Qi Bai.

Behind him walked Lang Yao. She looked better than yesterday, though her weak eyesight and the rough ground made walking difficult.

So, a young wolf youth supported her carefully.

This boy was the same cub who’d choked on meat the day before—but now he had a name: Lang Xu.

Qi Bai had chosen it—“Xu,” meaning the rising sun. He hoped the child would face the past calmly and embrace the new day brightly.

Qi Bai set out the food from his basket. Lang Ze handed Lang Yao a bamboo tube of meatball soup. “I’ll be back to the tribe this afternoon. Do you want to come with me?”

Elders like Lang Yao should usually help with mud-brick work at the grain yard. But since Lang Ze had taken her place, and brick-making was slower than stone-chiseling, she had stayed at the quarry.

She shook her head. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll wait here with the children and return with them.”

“Mm. Then I’ll come find you in three days.” Lang Ze nodded. The tribe was safe; she could stay wherever she liked.

Qi Bai snuck a glance at him. Good heavens—he’d done in one morning what workers did in three days. Truly worthy of being his mate.

Noticing his look, Lang Ze hesitated, then sat closer, murmuring, “Today’s tools weren’t quite right. Next time I can finish four days’ work in half a day.”

Niu Xi nearly spat out her drink.

Seriously? Half a day for three days’ worth wasn’t outrageous enough—you want to go for four? How are others supposed to survive?

But no one else heard. Every other gaze was glued, unblinking, to the food in front of them, mouths watering.

The aroma was overwhelming.

Even veteran workers couldn’t help sniffing hard. This smelled even better than the canteen meals.

And Lang Ze wasn’t helping. He picked up a slab of stir-fried lamb, laid it on a flatbread, folded it into a giant wrap, and devoured it in two or three bites.

Qi Bai was sure he was doing it on purpose. With that display, the workers were nearly in tears, and even the warriors who had brought rations swallowed hard.

At least the warriors had food of their own. The workers, though, clutched their bamboo bowls with glowing eyes.

They were the top five hundred in the work contest—the ones confirmed that morning as official Heishan members.

Starting tonight, they would eat the same food as the rest of the tribe.

Would the canteen serve food like this? They couldn’t wait to find out.

If the warriors had heard their thoughts, they would’ve scoffed: Dream on. Even we only get Qi Bai’s cooking a few times a year.

But winter days were short, lunch breaks shorter. After their simple meal, the two parted ways again.

Lang Ze returned to oversee the interrogation of Ji and Sang Xu. Qi Bai, uninterested in torture, walked back to the tribe to continue preparing for the trade fair.

Four days later, at the foot of Heishan—

The Heishan leadership stood waiting beside the pavilion at the field’s edge.

From afar, Xiong Han and his group spotted them.

No introductions were needed. The two men in thick fur cloaks at the front had to be Chief Hou Yan and Priest Yang Luo.

They also felt the weight of Heishan’s respect and welcome. Their own steps grew solemn.

Nor had they come lightly—Zhanxiong, Yungu, and Julu had all sent both chiefs and priests. Even Yungu’s aged chief Yun Tan, who rarely left his lands, had come.

Hou Yan greeted warmly: “I didn’t expect you to come personally. The journey must’ve been hard.”

Their lands were six or seven days away, but without wagons and carrying trade goods, the trip was slow. They had left the day after Lang Ze departed Xishui and only now arrived.

Yun Tan smiled. “Not hard at all. Thanks to Heishan’s saddles and rattan baskets, I rode comfortably in Yun Jing’s basket the whole way. Far easier than migrating from Beihuang.”

Meanwhile, Yang Luo welcomed the priests.

Unlike Yang Luo, who used his bear-bone staff as ornament, the three leaned heavily on theirs. They looked even older than Yun Tan—especially Lu Jian of Julu, who seemed near a hundred, missing several teeth, truly an elder of the beast continent.

Talking, they all approached the prepared pavilion.

Now, it was no longer the bare structure of a few days ago.

Hide curtains enclosed it, braziers within steamed with clay kettles, and rows of heavy log tables formed two neat aisles with a broad walkway between.

Tall posts stood between each table, tied with grass ropes—purpose unclear.

But just this much already dazzled the visiting beastmen.

Lu Ming gaped. His eyes couldn’t take it all in. What were these things? How did Heishan have so many he’d never seen?

Even sniffing the air brought strange scents that set their stomachs growling after the long road.

It wasn’t just him—even Chief Yun Tan stopped in wonder.

Qi Bai stepped forward with a smile. “The journey here was not easy. If all you get is salt, it would be a shame. So, we’ve prepared a small trade fair. If you see anything useful, you’re welcome to exchange.”

He pointed to a few empty tables opposite. “And if you’d like, you may set up your own stalls as well.”

Yun Tan eyed the warm, comfortable pavilion. “This…”

Hou Yan smiled. “We’d prepared refreshments, so you could rest and eat first. But if you’re not hungry, feel free to look around now.”

“Not hungry, not hungry,” the three priests said together, waving their hands.

Who could eat now? They were already impatient to see Heishan’s marvels.