Chapter 300

A cold wind howled through the valley. A giant wolf pushed against the gale, running with all its strength. After much effort, it finally reached the cave at the end of the valley.

The wolf shifted into human form and shouted toward the depths of the cave, “Ran, the trade team is back! The chieftain and the others have returned with supplies!”

Inside the cave, a fire crackled. Several sub-beastmen were tanning hides, and upon hearing the news, everyone rejoiced.

A female beastman stood up from the group and said to everyone, “Quickly, spread this news to all the tribe members.”

“We got it, Ran! We’re going right now!”

Lang Ran rolled up the worn beast hide she had been using as a cushion and wrapped it around herself. She turned to the messenger, Lang Yuan, and said, “Come, let’s go welcome them outside the valley.”

The two of them hurried to the valley entrance, but the sight in the distance made them freeze at the same time.

Lang Yuan rubbed his eyes hard. “Are my eyes broken? Why do I see so many of our people?”

The chieftain had clearly only taken thirty people with him, but now more than ten times that number were returning.

And the white wolf at the front—was that the chieftain’s beast form? Was his beast form really that large?

Lang Yuan didn’t notice that upon clearly seeing the approaching group, Lang Ran’s body suddenly slumped downward.

Seeing the two of them outside the valley, a gray wolf beside the white wolf suddenly accelerated, reaching them in the blink of an eye.

Before Lang Yuan could feel joy, he saw Lang Lin throw himself into Lang Ran’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably, “Mother, Father is dead!”

Lang Yuan took a step back. “How could that be…”

Lang Ran seemed mentally prepared. She calmly pushed Lang Lin away and stared straight at the group who had turned into human form in front of her.

She looked first at Lang Zhan, and said softly, “Zhan… it really is you.”

Lang Zhan’s expression was complicated. “Ran, I didn’t expect that after all these years, I’d still see you.”

This sub-beastman, once incomparably proud and pursued by countless horned beastmen, now didn’t even have a single intact beast hide.

Lang Ran shifted her gaze to the tall, young man. She looked him over carefully, as if trying to find the shadow of another person in him. “Royal bloodline… You’re Lang Shun’s cub… You are Ze?”

“It’s me.”

Lang Ran looked at the dusty, weary tribesmen behind them and tucked a stray hair behind her ear with a smile. “You really did come. I’ve waited so long for this day.”

Seeing that Lang Ran didn’t mention Lang Shuo at all, Lang Kai couldn’t help but speak, his tone carrying a hint of accusation he hadn’t realized himself: “You’ve known for a long time what Lang Shuo did!”

No wonder that ever since they’d left the grasslands and come here, Lang Ran had always treated Lang Shuo coldly. Though they were mates, they were even more distant than ordinary tribespeople.

“I know he did something unforgivable… But he truly never wanted to harm the Yinyue Tribe. He accepted the territory from Cang Shensi and made deals with City of Ten Thousand Bones only to find a chance for revenge.”

As if realizing her words were too weak, Lang Ran didn’t insist. Instead, she looked at Lang Ze with hope in her eyes. “Since you’re willing to come… does that mean you’ll take the tribe members away?”

Lang Ze asked in return, “Why couldn’t I have come to eliminate traitors?”

Lang Ran shook her head. “Your mother-father Xiang was the softest-hearted beastman I knew. You’re his cub—you wouldn’t do something like that.”

She turned to the weeping Lang Lin and gently wiped away his tears. “Your father was harsh with you because he wanted you to grow up faster. But we all knew you weren’t the right one to be chieftain. It’s better now—follow Ze. With your personality, that’s actually a good thing. Don’t be like your father, so stubborn, coveting a position that didn’t belong to him.”

Lang Lin murmured, “Mother…”

At that moment, the sub-beastmen in the cave had already spread the news throughout Fenggu (Wind Valley). All the beastmen came running out from the caves.

Lang Ran interrupted him. “Everyone has their own fate. I’ve known mine for a long time.”

Nearly a thousand beastmen stood shoulder to shoulder. The wind in the valley was fierce, so they had to huddle together for warmth.

Yet even so, smiles still bloomed on their faces.

Lang Zhan, Lang Cheng, Lang Huai… By the Beast God above, they were their own tribesmen—had the chieftain really found them? Were they joining the territory?

Beastmen looked around in confusion, wondering why Lang Shuo hadn’t appeared yet, why he hadn’t announced the good news.

They were too happy to notice the unusually solemn expression on Lang Ran’s face as she stood on a stone platform.

Lang Ran looked at the pale, emaciated tribesmen, and a deep sadness surged in her heart.

Lang Shuo wasn’t fit to be chieftain, and neither was she. No matter how hard they tried, they could never compare to Lang Shun and Xiang. These people hadn’t lived the way the Yinyue Tribe once did—they were worse off than those who had followed Lang Zhan. That was a fact no one could deny.

Lang Ran squeezed her eyes shut tightly before raising her voice. “Over all these years, I know everyone has held a question in their hearts that’s never been answered.”

The noisy crowd gradually fell silent, their eyes curious as they looked up at her.

“That year, I suddenly organized three teams of sub-beastmen and cubs to go gather at a pasture a day’s journey away from the tribe.”

“But when we returned, the entire tribe was gone. And your horned beastman partners were safely brought back by Lang Shuo. Isn’t that all too coincidental?”

A dead silence filled the valley. Only the piercing wind howled. All eyes were fixed on Lang Ran, who looked as though she could be blown away at any moment.

“Nothing is ever that coincidental. This all happened because Lang Shuo knew ahead of time that the tribe would be attacked. He knew, so he made sure his mate and cub left early.”

“All of this, Lang Shuo told me before he left.”

Lang Ran’s words were like a bomb, instantly igniting the entire valley.

“I don’t believe it! Where is the chieftain? Let the chieftain come out—we want to see him!”

“We want to see the chieftain!”

They were wolf warriors. A wolf warrior would rather die than betray. How could Lang Shuo have done something like this?

“This is the truth!” Lang Ran shouted. “This is the truth!”

“Mother!”

As Lang Lin screamed in anguish, Lang Ran drew a bone knife and plunged it deep into her chest.

“It was Lang Shuo and I who did wrong. We betrayed all of you! Go with Lang Ze—leave this place…”

Lang Ran’s body collapsed heavily to the ground. Before her eyes fully closed, she seemed to leave behind this barren land.

She saw a blue sky. She smelled the sweet scent of grass. She heard the sounds of Lang Shun and Lang Shuo sparring. Ah, those were the good times… If only time could’ve stayed frozen there…

“Mother…” Lang Lin held Lang Ran, who lay in a pool of blood, crying in unbearable grief.

Qi Bai sighed.

Whether it was because they knew death was near, or because they didn’t want to cause conflict within the tribe, Lang Shuo and Lang Ran had made the same choice.

Before they died, they both did the same thing: told Lang Ze that the people of the tribe knew nothing of the past. They had not been part of Lang Shuo and Cang Shensi’s conspiracy.

Lang Ran may have been innocent, but she had no choice. Only by dying could she allow the tribe to leave everything behind and follow Lang Ze.

And for Lang Ran, who had borne this secret alone for so long, whose conscience had tortured her—death was perhaps a kind of release.

Lang Ze gave the tribe no time to grieve.

“I don’t have time to spare. Whether you want to leave or not doesn’t matter—Cang Shensi’s men could arrive at any moment. You have half a day to gather supplies. After that, everyone must leave with the group.”

---

The journey was even slower than Qi Bai and Lang Ze had anticipated.

They’d been traveling since early February, and it was May by the time they reached the edge of the grasslands—more than eighty days in total.

Once they entered the grasslands, the mood of the entire group lightened. When they reached the edge of Da Ze, the children’s laughter finally returned.

At last, they’d arrived at the land that had haunted their dreams. Lang Huai had been in a great mood these past few days. As she stewed mushroom soup, she told the cubs stories of the grassland’s richness and the legends of Yinyue that once lived there.

Lang Yuan couldn’t help but sigh. “How

many years has it been since we’ve seen such lush grass?”

Cang Shensi may have given them land, but anyone could see it was barren. Shangcheng came every year to collect food from them. If they couldn’t pay, they became slaves. Every day in Fenggu was filled with fear.

Shu, the young lord of Qingchi City, sniffed the food and joined the conversation with interest. “Exactly. Even back in Ji City, I’d heard of your Fenggu. That place isn’t fit for any normal beastman. That constant wind can blow away all animals and plants. If it were me, I’d have moved out ages ago.”

Before going with the Wood Divine Envoy to Wan’gu, Shu had stayed in Ji City for over half a year, becoming familiar with the city and its surroundings. So chatting now came easily.

But just as he was getting warmed up, Ren nearby started blinking at him furiously.

Ren’s eyes were small, so his blinking was… hard to watch. Shu was annoyed and eventually got up, dragging Ren away from the group.

“What’s your problem? Couldn’t you see I was talking?”

Ren said earnestly, “Young Lord, from here it’s less than two ten-days to Qingchi. You’ve been gone a long time—City Lord and Madam must miss you.”

That only annoyed Shu more. “Don’t start. I already told you—I’m going to Bao Bai’s territory. If you want to go home, go alone. I was going to send someone with a letter anyway. You can be the one.”

Ren was speechless, but he couldn’t argue with this little tyrant. So he reminded him, “Don’t you think this place looks familiar?”

Shu stroked his chin.

Come to think of it, he had been wondering—this place did look familiar. But he’d been to so many places that he couldn’t quite recall.

Ren helped him out. “More than ten years ago, our envoy team came here once. Remember? The time you got beaten up?”

“What?” Shu nearly jumped. He slapped his forehead. “Yinyue Tribe! That’s right! I was beaten here!”

Ren had brought it up hoping Shu would avoid the place. But it had the opposite effect.

“This can’t be let go!” Shu fumed. “Let’s go find Lang Ze!”

Lang Ze was helping Qi Bai build a sacrificial altar.

Ever since arriving at the edge of Da Ze, Lang Ze and Qi Bai had been working non-stop.

This altar was special. Every part of it—the wood, the grass, even the building process—was handled personally by Qi Bai and Lang Ze. No one else helped.

After hearing Shu’s complaint, Lang Ze asked, “Did that beast hide bag smell awful?”

“It reeked! I couldn’t eat for three days! Who was that jerk? You’ve got to—wait.” Shu paused, a bad feeling creeping in. “When did I ever say I was stuffed into a beast hide bag?”

Qi Bai responded, “What do you think?” Lang Ze had arranged it all—how could he not know?

Shu took a step back. “You… how old were you then?”

Back then, Shu had been about fifteen or sixteen. Lang Ze was at least five years younger. So had he been beaten up by a little kid?

Lang Ze didn’t stop working, didn’t even look at him. “Do you remember what kind of ritual you made my father and mother-father perform?”

With that reminder, Shu remembered the ridiculous thing he’d done.

He had seen others kneeling before the temple and thought it looked grand, so he wanted people to kneel before him too.

His father found out later and gave him a beating. That kneeling got him two beatings. Shu had never dared mention it again. He would’ve forgotten entirely if Lang Ze hadn’t brought it up.

Shu gave a guilty chuckle. “Ahem. It wasn’t anything major. Just a show of respect.”

“Then during the ceremony, go over there,” Lang Ze said casually. “Face the altar and do it again—to show your respect.”

Shu: “……” What did he ever do to deserve this?

By midday, Qi Bai and Lang Ze finally completed the altar.

It was a half-human-tall platform made of wood and dry grass. On top was a shallow square depression about two meters wide. It didn’t look sturdy—certainly not for standing.

When all the Yinyue people were gathered, they were confused. Staring at the unfamiliar altar, no one knew what Lang Ze and Qi Bai were about to do.

Qi Bai took a deep breath and solemnly opened the beast hide bags, revealing bones—one full bag of white bones, with two more still in front of him.

Everyone’s breathing turned ragged as they realized what these were.

Qi Bai spoke as calmly as he could. “These bones… are our tribesmen.”

Several sub-beastmen turned away and began to weep softly. Others couldn’t hold back their tears either.

The Egu Tribe believed beastmen were the children of the Beast God. Weapons made from their bones were the most spiritual tools in existence. By using them, they could commune with the Beast God. The stronger the beastman, the more powerful the bone’s spirit.

Without a doubt, to the Egu Tribe, the Yinyue—who had driven them from the grasslands—were the best bone tool material.

After the destruction of Wangu, Qi Bai and Lang Ze’s first act was to recover the bones of their people.

It had been a harrowing process. Bone spikes, bone drills, bone chains—even bowls made from skulls. Every item was a stab to the heart.

And those were only the ones they could identify. Many others had been taken, discarded, or forgotten. Their remains were now lost to time.

The most heartbreaking of all were Lang Shun and Xiang’s leg bones—crafted into two bone knives and hung in the most prominent place in the Wangu High Priest’s quarters.

Qi Bai could easily imagine the cold gaze of that snake-eyed high priest, obsessively staring at their bones, reliving the invasion of Yinyue again and again.

Even the thought filled Qi Bai with searing rage. That high priest’s death had come far too cheaply.

If Qi Bai felt this way, Lang Ze must have felt it even more deeply.

This kind of hatred, carved into the bone, wasn’t something the destruction of the Egu Tribe could wash away.

That’s why Qi Bai insisted that Lang Ze bring their people back—to the grasslands, to Yinyue’s former territory, to the edge of the lake that once gave them life.

To hold, at last, a long-overdue funeral for their fallen kin.