Chapter 245

Qi Bai and Lang Ze had no idea what was happening in the square and pavilion. At that moment, the two of them were standing in line at a street stall, waiting for their beast-world version of a roujiamo.

Feeling the furtive gazes around him, Qi Bai tugged his scarf higher over his face, covering his mouth and nose.

Although he hadn’t been showing up at the threshing grounds much lately, some of the clansmen from the three visiting tribes who had followed the trade convoy over still recognized him.

Yesterday, he had only just announced the city plan, and today, the stares already followed him everywhere he went.

Qi Bai couldn’t help recalling the ceremonial gear the elder priests had given him yesterday. He thought perhaps it would be best not to go out much for a while after the festival.

Of course, even if people didn’t recognize Qi Bai, just Lang Ze’s massive figure alone drew attention from the three tribes’ beastmen.

A few young sub-beastmen waiting at the food stall couldn’t help stealing glances at Lang Ze’s profile, their eyes gleaming.

They might never have seen him in person, but Lang Ze’s name had already spread throughout Zhanxiong, Yungu, and Julu. Those beastmen who had fought in the battle against Sanghuo went home bragging about their strength—but no matter how exaggerated the stories became, every tale circled back to Lang Ze.

When opponents were evenly matched, people might compare. But when the gap was overwhelming, all that remained was awe.

Now, in the hearts of the five tribes’ beastmen, Lang Ze had become nearly invincible.

The sub-beastmen didn’t care about awe. The stronger a beastman was, the more thrilling it would be to conquer him.

But their thoughts were crushed the moment they approached Lang Ze.

Ordinarily, a beastman with a mate only needed to wear one or two tokens from their sub-beastman atop their head. Lang Ze’s hat, however, was a full-blown garden in bloom—an explosion of flowers that looked ready to skip winter and jump straight into spring. One didn’t need eyes to see it.

That’s right—unlike most pairs, Qi Bai hadn’t dressed himself up. Instead, that morning he had decorated Lang Ze with small fur-flowers, making him stand out flamboyantly. He thought: let’s see if anyone still dares eye Lang Ze now.

As for Qi Bai himself—no one could get close with Lang Ze watching him.

The one making the meat-filled flatbreads was Zhu Zhu. Though they were old acquaintances, Qi Bai still politely pulled four strips of meat from his little satchel to pay.

Lang Ze followed faithfully behind, his hands full with the fruit and skewers Qi Bai had already bought. Suddenly, his ears twitched—he had caught the disturbance in the crowd.

Qi Bai held a flatbread with both hands, taking a bite before raising it toward Lang Ze for him to take a bite too. His eyes sparkled as he followed Lang Ze’s gaze.

They had come to the mating festival to see lively scenes like this, after all.

Arms full of snacks, they hurried over and found a huge circle already formed—ten meters across—around a makeshift arena. In the middle stood Xiong Zhong and Ai, facing off.

“Wow,” Qi Bai tugged on Lang Ze’s arm excitedly, “this isn’t wrestling in human form—they’re going to fight in beast form!”

If it were just human grappling, the crowd wouldn’t need to leave so much space.

Qi Bai had never seen a proper beast-form duel before.

But for now, the fight hadn’t started. Instead, the crowd’s focus was on the sidelines, where they craned their necks, crowding around.

A little questioning later, Qi Bai burst out laughing.

Because right there, Quan Nan and Shu Lin were stirring up bets.

Qi Bai quickly pulled over Sun Qing, who was holding little Sun Yuan’s hand, whispered something in his ear, and Sun Qing glanced toward the five tribes’ chiefs before running off.

Qi Bai pressed Sun Yuan down: “You stay here. Too many people—you might get trampled. Wait till your brother comes back, then go find him.”

Lang Ze asked: “What did you send Sun Qing to do?”

Qi Bai blinked and grinned: “You’ll see.”

Gambling was always the simplest trick, but the one with the most little schemes.

Of course, Quan Nan and Shu Lin’s betting was just for fun, with simple rules and no middleman profits.

All it cost was a strip of meat. Pick the fighter you thought would win.

If your fighter won, you got your meat back—plus a share of all the losers’ wagers.

If he lost, you only lost one strip of meat. On a lively day like this, it was worth it for the excitement alone.

They started it mostly to cheer Ai on. After all, Jufeng’s numbers were far smaller than Zhanxiong’s. As friends of the “big guys,” they couldn’t just stand by.

As more joined in, the crowd split into two chanting groups. In front of Quan Nan and Shu Lin was a little pile of jerky, and they were waving their arms, leading chants for Ai.

“Hou! Hou! Hou!”

With wagers placed, the cheers for Ai grew all the more heartfelt.

Shu Lin peeked at the pile supporting Xiong Zhong—so much more meat. He drooled. If Ai won, they’d strike it rich.

Maybe Qi Bai would even bet? Last year, Shu Lin had lost loads of meat strips to him. This year, he was determined to win it back.

On the opposite side, a Zhanxiong sub-beastman handled Xiong Zhong’s wagers, rallying his clansmen to shout just as loudly.

Nearly all the Zhanxiong beastmen had joined in. Only Xiong Qi and a few others who had seen Jufeng’s beast forms quietly backed away. They knew better—they wouldn’t spoil the surprise.

Meanwhile, Xiong Zhong and Ai had wagered a beast hide each, symbolized by stones placed in the center.

But standing in the middle, the two suddenly realized—no one actually cared why they were fighting anymore.

Just then, Sun Qing returned with help—carrying five tables and stools. They set them squarely between the two chanting groups.

As Qi Bai had arranged, the five tribes’ chiefs and priests sat down at the makeshift referee’s table.

Perfect. What was a match without judges? And who better than these leaders?

With the referees in place, the atmosphere flared again.

Priests Xiong Han and Wu Rao even sweetened the pot.

“The victor will also earn extra meat from Zhanxiong and Jufeng! And today’s ultimate champion will win a large ceramic jar from Heishan!”

“Hou! Hou! Hou!”

“Hou! Hou! Hou!”

Amid the earth-shaking roars, Qi Bai pulled three strips of meat from his satchel, ready to bet—two for him and Lang Ze, and one he pressed into Sun Yuan’s tiny hand.

Qi Bai made a fist like a microphone, holding it up solemnly to Sun Yuan:
“Little Sun Yuan, which fighter do you favor today?”

The boy looked at Qi Bai’s fist, said nothing, but crouched to place his meat strip firmly on Ai’s pile. Of course he would support the one who had played with him.

Dragged into the cheering squad by Qi Bai, Sun Yuan thought stubbornly: I’m nearly seven. I’m not a little kid anymore.

“Hou!” “Ao!”

With two roars, both contestants shifted into beast form.

Xiong Zhong transformed into his tribe’s iconic panda form. But there was nothing cute about him—nearly three meters tall, over a ton in weight, his body bulged with muscle. He tilted back his head and roared, the sound vibrating through the air like a physical force.

No wonder he had the confidence to challenge an outsider. Among Zhanxiong, he was considered formidable, second only to Chief Xiong Han.

But then his opponent fully transformed.

Xiong Zhong’s roar cut off. The giant panda stumbled back two steps, staring.

Xiong Zhong: …?? What the hell is that?!

Xiong Qi grimaced and turned away. Why, oh why, did he have to pick a fight with Jufeng of all people? One glance at their human forms should’ve been enough to know they weren’t ordinary beastmen.

Standing seven meters tall, giant Ai crouched slightly and clapped his hands together.
“Come.”

If Xiong Zhong’s roar had been like splitting the heavens, Ai’s single word was like thunder rolling down from the sky.

Fine—then come it was.

Size aside, Xiong Zhong wasn’t raised to scare easily. Zhanxiong had hunted beasts bigger than this before. Human-form or beast-form, he could fight this.

But a minute passed. Five. Ten.

The giant panda, tongue lolling, wanted to cry. His opponent was still crouched calmly, unmoving.

This isn’t a duel—this is fighting a stone pillar.

The giant’s skin was tougher than the plated hide of wild boars. Unless he used over seventy percent of his strength, his claws couldn’t even scratch.

His bone-shattering charges? Ai blocked them casually with his arms, not budging an inch.

Through all this, Ai had hardly moved, while Xiong Zhong was exhausted.

Then the giant straightened, walking forward with slow, thunderous steps.

Xiong Zhong braced himself, adjusting his breath. At the last moment, he hurled himself forward for one final strike.

He’s slow—if I hit the weak point—

But before the thought finished, the panda suddenly found himself airborne.

Boom!

He crashed outside the ring, leaving a shallow crater in the dirt.

Qi Bai flinched, clapping a hand over Sun Yuan’s eyes. “Tsk tsk—too brutal.”

A ton of panda, tossed like a shot put.

The title of “strongest single fighter” of the Jufeng Tribe wasn’t just for show.

From the start, Xiong Zhong had lost the moment he tried to fight head-on.

Sun Yuan tiptoed, chin on Qi Bai’s hand, staring expressionlessly at Ai waving his arms to the roaring crowd.

Strongest? That’s the strongest?

“Jufeng!” “Jufeng!” “Ai!” “Ai!” “Hou hou hou!”

“Heh.” Ai scratched his head, grinning.

In beastman matches, forcing your opponent out of bounds was defeat. Clean, decisive. Ai was the undeniable victor.

He was about to shift back to human and leave when another figure strode into the ring.

Lang Ji tilted his head back to look up at Ai.
“Ai, I challenge you too.”

Ai glanced at the referee’s table. No objections. He nodded.

Sure, why not? But Lang Ji was his friend. He’d toss him gently.

Until Lang Ji turned to Yang Luo and Hou Yan:
“Chief, Priest—I want five stalks of xuequcao as my prize if I win.”