Chapter 280

The four exchanged brief information with one another, then Lang Ze and Qi Bai met all the clansmen in the territory before finally arriving at the tent Lang Huai had prepared for them.

The tent was spacious. A burning fire pit kept the whole interior warm, and behind it lay a pile of clean dry grass clearly set up specially for Lang Ze—large enough even for his enormous beast form.

Once alone inside, Lang Ze said:
“I plan to have Lang Zhan take us to see the battlefield between Sheng Ling and the Shi Jin beastmen.”

Qi Bai and Lang Ze’s original agreement with Sheng Ling Tribe was that they would find the beastmen living in the forest, and in return Sheng Ling would guide them toward the city.

But now, clearly, they no longer needed Sheng Ling’s directions. They could even slip into the city directly by using Lang Zhan’s method.

Not needing Sheng Ling’s information did not mean they would abandon cooperation.

It was just that Sheng Ling sought allies who would fight alongside them. Before confirming any alliance, Lang Ze needed to first gauge the strength of the Shi Jin beastmen and Wangu City.

Qi Bai nodded in agreement.

This wasn’t just about Sheng Ling’s conditions—their own plan also needed rethinking.

Originally, their goal in coming was to infiltrate Wangu City, gather intel on the Upper City, and take the chance to assassinate either the envoy or the City Lord, plunging Wangu into chaos and preparing the way for Heiyao’s eventual expedition.

But now, with Wangu’s situation more tense than expected, if they used this moment well, even if they couldn’t destroy Wangu outright, they could still make it suffer heavily.

At this thought, Qi Bai recalled the prophecy Fox Xiao had given them before departure.

“Could it really be coming true like this?”

“Mm.” Qi Bai replied. “I’ve already spoken with Lang Huai. Tomorrow morning she’ll take us to meet that beastman.”

Night deepened, the forest utterly silent. Having settled their plans, they lay down to sleep.

---

The next morning, Qi Bai woke up nestled in a thick bundle of fur.

Sensing his stirring, the giant wolf laid one big paw across Qi Bai’s waist and rumbled deep in his throat, clearly wanting him to sleep longer.

Qi Bai didn’t really want to get up either—after two or three months of traveling, he and Lang Ze had only been sleeping in sleeping bags.

Warm as they were, they couldn’t compare to the soft fur of the wolf’s belly. Last night, Qi Bai had felt as though he were sleeping on a giant marshmallow—it was impossibly comfortable.

Still, he hadn’t forgotten their business. Hugging the wolf’s paw, he rubbed against it and said, “No, I need to get up and prepare food.”

When they stepped out of the tent, Lang Huai and Lang Zhan were already awake. Seeing them, they brought them straight to a food storage tent filled with fresh game the hunting party had just brought back.

To their surprise, instead of looking at the meat, Qi Bai’s eyes lit up and he ran to a pile of yellow tubers in the corner.

How could Qi Bai not be excited? These huangshu looked and tasted almost exactly like modern potatoes. The only difference was their size—they were small, about as big as eggs. He didn’t yet know their yield.

But for now that didn’t matter. Thrilled, Qi Bai held one up to Lang Ze: “This is the tudou I told you about!”

Potatoes were a treasure. On Blue Star, in many countries they were staple food. If they could cultivate huangshu steadily, their food reserves would soar.

Lang Ze asked Lang Zhan: “How many of these huangshu are there?”

Lang Zhan answered honestly: “They don’t grow in the forest. They grow on the southern slopes. In autumn, when the hunters go out, they bring some back. Now only this much remains.”

Looking at the four to five hundred catties of tubers, Lang Ze said, “Don’t eat them yet. When we return to the city, we’ll take them back to plant.”

Lang Zhan didn’t understand what “planting” meant, but seeing how seriously Qi Bai and Lang Ze treated the tubers, he knew they must be valuable.

Their discovery of huangshu had been by chance, but since they were simple to prepare—even just roasted in the fire—they were delicious, so they had gathered more.

Now learning they had greater use, Lang Zhan and Lang Huai were delighted and agreed readily.

Recovering from his excitement, Qi Bai began selecting ingredients.

He chose some ribs and steak, plus a few mushrooms.

The tribe had many dried mushrooms—one of their staple foods. Mushrooms grew all over the forest. Just yesterday Qi Bai had seen stumps covered with drying mushrooms. Many were varieties he’d never seen before, but if the tribe preserved them, they had to be edible.

With butter, he pan-fried steak, roasted ribs, and made a thick mushroom soup. Just three simple dishes, but they had the children drooling in their sleep until they woke.

Even the adults, like Lang Sheng, swallowed hungrily. No wonder the cubs Lang Dou and Lang Wu clung to Qi Bai—the taste was like nothing they had ever known.

Lang Sheng swore by the Beast God he had never smelled food more fragrant.

But however hungry they were, it was useless. The food Qi Bai had risen early to make wasn’t for them—it was meant as an offering to the reclusive neighbor in the forest. They still had only their usual roasted meat.

And after smelling the steak and ribs, their roasted meat seemed tasteless.

---

As they walked, Lang Huai explained:

“When we came to the forest, that beastman was already here. We don’t know his name or even his face. He lives in an ancient tree, so everyone calls him the Ancient Tree Beastman.”

“He’s solitary, but he sometimes trades with us. Many of our bone tools came from him.”

As long as he had enough materials for bone tools, the Ancient Tree Beastman rarely left. So he wasn’t too hostile toward Silver Moon beastmen who brought him food and bones to trade.

That was why Qi Bai had specially prepared food for him—it would be their way in.

But as Lang Huai spoke, Lang Ze suddenly stopped her.

Through the mist-shrouded forest, two cloaked figures emerged.

The taller one sniffed the air. “I think I smell food.”

A middle-aged voice responded sternly: “Young Master Xi, we came to the Misty Forest with a mission. If you only think of food, perhaps you should return.”

The tall one tilted his head lazily. “Of course I remember. But… is he really my father’s brother’s son? I don’t see anything special about him.”

“Do not speak that way again,” the middle-aged beastman’s tone hardened. “Whether his beast form or his forging skill—both prove he is Lord Ye’s child. Only he can inherit Lord Ye’s place as Forge Envoy and lead our Chi Hu Tribe back to the temple.”

Hidden beneath his hood, Xi’s lips curled in mockery. He laughed coldly in his heart but outwardly sounded regretful: “I understand. I’d only ever say such things to you, Liao…”

Their voices faded, and when they disappeared from sight, Lang Ze dropped from the tree.

Qi Bai and Lang Huai hurried up. Qi Bai clutched the fur-wrapped bundle. “That was close. Did they notice us?”

Lang Ze shook his head. “They seemed to be looking for the Ancient Tree Beastman. They know the path well—clearly not their first time.”

Lang Huai looked grim. This was the Ancient Tree Beastman’s domain. She rarely came here and hadn’t known outsiders entered.

But she couldn’t blame him. After all, they had never promised each other to bar outsiders—and she herself had brought Qi Bai and Lang Ze here today.

---

At last, the Ancient Tree Beastman’s dwelling came into view.

Qi Bai instantly understood why the tribe’s tents were all square.

Before them stood a massive tree, four or five men around in girth. Atop it, built solidly, was a square treehouse.

Following the roots, they reached the treehouse door. Lang Huai knocked. Soon came dragging footsteps.

Creaaak—the door opened, revealing… a wall of beard.

Qi Bai had never seen so much facial hair. With his head also hung with messy dark red hair, Qi Bai couldn’t even see the man’s eyes at first, barely telling where his face was. No wonder Lang Huai said she didn’t know his features.

“Not trading today.” The bearded man’s tone was gruff.

Qi Bai opened the tightly wrapped fur bag, revealing the prepared food. “It wasn’t easy for us to make this. Are you sure you don’t want to consider?”

The beard twitched as he sniffed. After a moment, he abruptly stepped back, leaving the doorway open.

Lang Huai nodded to Qi Bai and Lang Ze—this meant he accepted.

Inside, the “house” was really a workshop.

Tools for crafting bone implements lay everywhere. The floor was littered with fragments of bone and wood shavings. On three walls hung finished bone tools—some astonishingly like Birdbone instruments.

He let them in but said nothing, his eyes hidden by hair, staring fixedly at Qi Bai’s bag.

Qi Bai didn’t waste words. He found a stump that could serve as a table and laid out the food.

Though it had gone lukewarm after the long journey, the man didn’t mind. He grabbed the steak with his hands and devoured it.

He cared most for the meat, finishing the steak and ribs before turning at last to the large bamboo flask.

He hesitated, took a sip, froze, then gulped down the mushroom soup in one breath.

Sated, his attitude softened noticeably. “What do you want?”

Lang Ze asked, “A key. We want to trade for a key.”

The bearded man shook his head. “There is no such thing here. I’ve never heard of it. Ask for something else.” His speech was slow and hoarse, like someone unaccustomed to talking.

Qi Bai frowned. Truthfully, he wasn’t surprised.

He had lived long enough in the beastman continent to know—there were no locks or keys here. From the start, he had doubted Fox Xiao’s “key” meant a literal tool. More likely it was a “key” in the sense of a clue, a way to unlock a puzzle.

So what was this “key”?

He glanced at the bone tools hanging everywhere.

A thought struck him.

He met Lang Ze’s eyes, then pulled from his pocket his small bone knife.

“This bone knife—can you make me an identical one?”

The moment Qi Bai produced it, he clearly felt the beastman across from him go rigid.