Chapter 349

Qi Bai took the jiao si in his hands. It felt cool, silky, and a little elastic. Aside from the cut end, there were no other visible joints. It didn’t look like it had been spun from fibers like Mu Hua thread — it felt more like some kind of silk secreted by an animal.

Qi Bai was quite satisfied with the jiao si. He looked around to make sure no one was watching, then lowered his voice and asked, “Are you sure you don’t have any jiao sha?” His tone was almost like he was using a secret code.

Unfortunately, this “code” didn’t work. The female beastman glanced at him warily and snatched back the jiao si. “I told you — I don’t have any. I’m not selling it to you.”

“Don’t misunderstand,” Qi Bai opened Lang Ze’s leather bag and revealed a whole roll of cloth. “Our city also weaves fabric. Look — this is what we make. I’m not here for anything else. I just wanted to see what fabrics from other cities are like.”

The female beastman, seeing the cloth, stopped in her tracks and turned back. Her face leaned close to the leather bag as she stared wide-eyed, as if trying to see through the Mu Hua fabric completely.

She carefully touched the surface with her fingertips. Perhaps because she worked with fine fabrics all year round, her hands weren’t rough and cracked like most beastmen. Even the thin webs between her fingers seemed translucent.

“Beautiful. Truly beautiful,” she praised. “You’re from Heiyao, the city known for making cloth?”

She had heard of this cloth — it was extremely popular in the great cities — but this was her first time seeing it in person. Although the threads weren’t as luxurious as those from the Yiren tribe, the tight weave was just as refined.

Qi Bai nodded. “Yes, we’re from Heiyao. We’d like to trade for some jiao si, and if we could see what jiao sha looks like in person, even better.”

Perhaps because they were all artisans, once the woman learned Qi Bai and Lang Ze’s identities, her attitude immediately changed. She turned back toward the tent and shouted, “Wen!”

A girl about eighteen or nineteen came running out. When she saw strangers at the stall, she slowed her steps.

The woman instructed, “Watch the stall for a bit. If anyone comes by, just call me from inside.”

Ni Wen tilted her head, clearly not understanding why this plain stall needed guarding. But since it was an order from the chieftain Ni Li, she obediently dragged over a wooden block and sat down quietly.

Ni Li led Qi Bai and Lang Ze into the tent behind the stall.

The Yiren tribe's tent was made of giant fish skins. The walls were lined with weaving tools made from fish bones.

“Don’t blame me for turning you away earlier,” Ni Li said. “All jiao sha woven by the Yiren tribe must be tributed to the temple. Even our own people aren’t allowed to wear it. If we traded it privately, the punishment would be more than our tribe could bear.”

She carefully took out a palm-sized piece of cloth from a leather pouch. “But I can let you look at an unfinished piece.”

Qi Bai accepted it with both hands. Even with his experience with modern fabrics, he was stunned.

He gently pinched it. The jiao sha had no visible warp or weft, more like a fine mesh. Whatever treatment it had gone through made it soft as sand, and its surface shimmered with changing iridescence under the light. Upon closer inspection, faint patterns flowed like rippling water.

This was only a small sample. The finished product would surely be even more dazzling — it didn’t seem like something this era should be capable of producing.

Qi Bai admired it, reluctant to let go. “It really lives up to the name.” He was eager to see what kind of fabric they could weave with this material.

“You said earlier that the temple forbids trading jiao sha. Are there any restrictions on jiao si?” Qi Bai asked.

Ni Li waved her hand. “No, not really. Only the Yiren can weave jiao sha. Even if other tribes had the silk, it would be useless to them. So the temple doesn’t care if we trade jiao si.”

Qi Bai’s eyes lit up. “Then how much jiao si do you have? We’ll take it all. Whatever you want in exchange — even if Heiyao doesn’t have it, I’ll find a way to get it for you.”

Unexpectedly, Ni Li didn’t ask for anything special. She said excitedly, “Trade it for your Heiyao cloth.”

Clearly, she wanted to bring Mu Hua cloth back to study. But Mu Hua cloth was relatively simple in structure, and Qi Bai had never planned to keep its methods secret. Without the proper materials and looms, no tribe could compete with Heiyao anyway.

Since she wanted it, Qi Bai was happy to trade.

“Oh right,” Ni Li raised a finger, “I have one more request.”

“What is it?” Qi Bai had a hunch — this was likely the real reason she brought them into the tent.

Ni Li pointed at the cloth in the leather bag. “I don’t care how you make it — but cloth made from jiao si can only be sold twice a year.”

Ma Ling had sent full rolls, about twenty meters each. Ni Li’s condition meant Heiyao could only sell forty meters of jiao si cloth per year. That was hardly anything.

Qi Bai thought for a moment, and then caught the deeper meaning. “The jiao sha you offer to the temple during the Grand Assembly…”

Ni Li held the palm-sized sample in front of her. “From the moment a Yiren child can walk, they begin learning how to weave jiao sha. In the past, we used it to adorn ourselves. On mating days, beastmen and sub-beastmen would play in the water, dressed in jiao sha… But such scenes are gone now. All of our jiao sha must go to the temple.”

“Not being able to wear beautiful clothes is no big deal,” she said, lowering her hand. “But the temple asks for more and more each time. Some of our people have gone blind from the strain of weaving.”

Though it was repetitive manual labor, weaving silk as fine as hair was mentally exhausting — more than outsiders could imagine.

She didn’t need to spell it out. Just as Qi Bai suspected, the limited output of jiao sha wasn’t just due to the difficulty — it was a deliberate choice by the Yiren tribe.

“You’re participating in the Grand Assembly for the first time,” Ni Li said. “You must already realize how greedy the temple is.”

The temple’s greed was plain for all to see, yet very few beastmen recognized the problem.

Attending the Grand Assembly sounded like a divine blessing. But on closer thought, it clearly wasn’t free.

Take Luo Ri City, for example — they needed help from the Xu shan tribe because they were required to provide a lavish offering to the central temple. And anything that entered the Beast God City never came back.

And that was just one offering.

Let’s not forget: above each lower and mid-tier city are affiliated cities. These also need to make offerings. If they couldn’t afford it, the burden was passed downward.

So, in the end, smaller cities couldn’t reduce their usual tributes and had to provide even more. For a place like Luo Ri — with no deep foundation and already plundered — it meant being stripped bare.

Even Ji and Zhao were worried about how they’d survive the next few years. And their city, Songwu, was directly under the temple’s priests — their tribute was already lighter than others.

So don’t be fooled by beastmen eating meat in the market every day. Cities like Angqi, with real wealth, were few and far between.

The sad thing was, under temple rule, many beastmen had become blindly loyal.

For most cities at the market, supporting the temple was a duty and an honor. Being allowed to even see Sacred City Mountain — and make offerings through the central temple — was seen as a blessing worth selling everything for.

In this kind of environment, the Yiren tribe’s clarity of thought was all the more admirable.

“What’s happening to the Yiren tribe will happen to you too,” Ni Li raised her brows. “Why not keep this secret between us? No matter how much jiao sha you make, the temple won’t give you anything more for it.”

Words like that could be used to fool the temple — but not Heiyao, which also had weaving skills. Ni Li simply dropped the pretense and offered a straight deal: limit the quantity.

Heiyao wasn’t under temple control, so they didn’t need to pay tribute. Still, Qi Bai agreed without hesitation.

If the Yiren tribe refused to sell jiao si, then Heiyao wouldn’t be involved. But since they were being honest, Heiyao couldn’t let them suffer for it.

After all, Heiyao used looms and simple plain weaves. Even if they pushed production, the Yiren weavers could never keep up by hand.

Besides, even the jiao si they just bought wasn’t enough for internal use — Qi Bai had no intention of

selling it.

The deal was made. Qi Bai successfully bought all the remaining jiao si from the Yiren, and also a special product of theirs — Ju fish grease, a medicinal salve they used to protect their fingers.

Despite being called a “fish,” the Ju fish was actually more like a river clam. The grease had no fishy smell and was incredibly soothing.

What delighted Qi Bai the most was that this fish grease was highly effective against chapped skin and frostbite. No more smearing pig fat on his face in winter!

After making a round through the market, Qi Bai returned to examine Heiyao’s stall.

The earlier stall selling bitter beans had inspired him. While they didn’t bring much inventory, they had lots of samples.

They began displaying sample items carried by their clans people at the stall. Other cities’ beastmen could order goods based on these samples.

Many curious beastmen came to check out Heiyao’s novel trading model. Though few bought anything immediately, the “advertisement” worked — when they needed something, they’d think of Heiyao.

Over the past few days, the happiest of all were Luo Shu and Hu Liao. Several cities along the Qingchi–Songwu trade route had already placed direct orders through Heiyao’s stall. Once they delivered, they were sure to make a fortune.

“Hu Xiao! Did you write down everything that guy said just now? Let me see!” Luo Shu called.

Hu Xiao rolled his eyes. “Even if I did, what good would it do? Like you’d understand it if I showed you.” He slammed his notebook shut and turned to head back to camp.

“Just make sure you keep it safe!” Luo Shu shamelessly ran after him. “Next time I go to Heiyao, I’ll come find you. I promise I’ll bring you loads of great stuff from Qi City!”

He hadn’t expected Hu Xiao to help at all — so even this much made him ecstatic. As for the attitude? Who cared.

Zhao glanced at Ji in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

Ji stared at Hu Xiao’s back, suppressing a strange feeling. He shook his head. “Nothing.”

Luo Shu saw the two and returned to his usual mischievous self. “Looking for Bao Bai and Lang Ze?”

When they nodded, he said, “Come with me — they’re in the Qingchi camp.”

Inside the Qingchi main tent:

“These are indeed the fruits of the Sacred Mountain’s dan mu tree,” Lady Xia returned the bone box to them. “I once ate a frozen one when I was still a high priestess’ disciple. They’re delicate. Without proper storage, they spoil quickly. I suggest you eat them soon.”

She added with a gentle smile, “But if you’re worried, you could trade them to me. My partner and child haven’t tried one yet.”

Qi Bai grinned and tucked away the box. “The Grand Priest said now’s the fruiting season. If you want more, just ask him — he wouldn’t dare say no to you. But these two? We’re keeping them.”

Lady Xia chuckled, clearly teasing. She wouldn’t really snatch them away.

Qi Bai, however, was curious about the temple’s storage methods.

Dan mu bore fruit once a century. Lady Xia had eaten one when young, so that fruit must’ve been stored for 60–70 years. Could it really still be edible? Qi Bai wasn’t going to find out. He preferred fresh ones.

As they chatted, a commotion broke out outside.

Qi Bai and Lang Ze stepped out to see a line of temple guards in silver robes and bone crowns. Leading them was the same Captain Tuo they’d met before.

“Heiyao and Qingchi — city lords and priests.”

Tuo recognized them too. His gaze lingered on Qi Bai and Lang Ze for a few seconds, then he loudly announced, “Resting quarters on Sacred Mountain are ready. Please ascend before dusk — don’t delay the Starry Banquet.”

Still as arrogant as ever, Tuo offered no further explanation before leaving.

Just then, Ji and Zhao arrived with Luo Shu.

“What’s the Starry Banquet?” Luo Shu asked.

Ji replied, “All cities have arrived. The banquet is the temple’s feast. The day after is the Grand Assembly.”

Luo Shu stretched his neck. “Been here for days — it’s finally happening.”

Luo Fu smacked him on the head. “It’s none of your business. Stay here and watch the camp.”

“Why can’t I go?”

“You think just anyone can enter the Beast God City? Didn’t you hear? Only the city lord and priest may attend. You think your status qualifies?”

To be precise, each city could only send its two highest-ranking members. Since Heiyao and Qingchi’s leaders were all present, they were the ones attending.

In past years, cities could bring two extra people — usually the heirs. But this year’s massive assembly had cut those slots.

Luo Shu scoffed. Beast God City? It’s not like he hadn’t been there before.

Ji and Zhao didn’t know Qi Bai and Lang Ze had already entered the temple and even met the Grand Priest. They assumed this was their first time too and planned to travel together.

Qi Bai didn’t refuse. Luo Fu and Lady Xia were also around, so the three cities set off together.

Bao Xi had already briefed Qi Bai and Lang Ze on the assembly. The camp was well-prepared, with Ma Ling overseeing things. They had no worries.

Qi Bai and Lang Ze simply changed clothes, packed a bag, and headed for Sacred Mountain.

Most had received the summons by now. Along the way, they ran into many familiar faces.

Xiang Rui gazed at the mountainside, eyes full of anticipation. “The Starry Banquet has the tastiest food on the continent...”

But thinking of Heiyao’s meals, he paused, then changed his praise. “It has the most beautiful beastmen. Just one look will make you forget all your worries.”

“I was about your age the first time I came to Sacred Mountain. Trust me — once you see them, you’ll be enchanted.”

He held his round belly, hands slowly lifting as if cupping a maiden’s heart. It was a dreamy scene — or should’ve been.

Instead, there was silence. Xiang Rui suddenly felt a chill on his neck.

Wait — wasn’t Sacred Mountain spring-like all year?

He turned and saw Lang Ze, Ji, and Luo Fu staring at him with dangerous expressions... while the sub-beastmen beside them looked unamused.

Still single Xiang Rui: “…”

I really need to shut up.