Chapter 350

Everyone’s lodgings were arranged on the fifth level of the Beast God City.

Passing through the gate and the guards’ inspection, those who had stayed in the marketplace all this time finally saw beastmen who weren’t just temple guards.

Several tall sub-beastmen in beige robes walked gracefully ahead, guiding the way. Wherever they passed, there seemed to be a faint fragrance lingering in the air.

Fair faces, slender necks, wrists so fragile they looked like they could snap with the slightest pressure. In any other tribe on the Beastman Continent, such weak-looking sub-beastmen would surely be despised—after all, strength was beauty among beastmen.

Yet here, within the temple, weaving between refined houses and flowerbeds, they seemed utterly fitting—like they were meant to be spotless, meant to live carefree.

Some of the sub-beastmen who had come from the other cities tugged at their own clothing in embarrassment. Everyone had deliberately worn their best furs before climbing the mountain, but compared to these attendants, their outfits still looked crude. If only they had thought to grit their teeth and buy some Mu Hua cloth back in Hei Yao, to make a proper set of clothes.

The most striking figures in the group were of course Qi Bai and Lang Ze.

Their attire wasn’t much different from the others, but one was cold and aloof, the other calm and composed. Surrounded by the slightly awkward crowd, they stood out as if they didn’t belong.

Especially Qi Bai—he looked like a tourist, casually asking the attendant young lady questions whenever he saw something interesting.

It was the first time the attendant had ever encountered an outsider beastman like this, and though she couldn’t hide her surprise, she patiently explained each question in a soft voice.

The last time Qi Bai had come to the Beast God City, he and Lang Ze had gone straight up the outer mountain path under Bao Xi’s guidance, directly to the first level—and even then, only to the Great High Priest’s garden. Strictly speaking, this was Qi Bai’s first true close look at the temple’s buildings.

The houses on the fifth level looked similar to those Qi Bai had glimpsed from the stone steps earlier, but were shorter than he had expected.

“Short” meaning closer to the scale of Blue Star buildings. Here, there were almost no houses large enough for beast forms to enter, and even the connecting corridors were built only for humanoid passage.

It made sense—land was scarce on the mountain, and the fifth level housed many people. Naturally, the homes couldn’t be as spacious as those of other cities.

Qi Bai and his companions were given a small courtyard with three rooms.

At its center was a steaming pool. Pools like this were scattered all over the Beast God City, resembling hot springs. But here, the water was considered sacred spring water, scarcely enough for offering—Qi Bai’s little hope of taking a soak was doomed.

Inside, the rooms were clean and simply furnished.

The mountain’s climate was pleasant year-round, and the windows were wide, opening to the view outside the courtyard.

Their house was on the inner side; from here they couldn’t see the snowy mountains, only mist, steam, and lush greenery. The view was indeed beautiful.

Leaning on the windowsill, fiddling with the vines trailing down the wall, Qi Bai mused: “If the temple didn’t keep stirring up trouble, coming here every ten years as a tourist wouldn’t be bad.”

Lang Ze wasn’t interested in the scenery. To him, even Hei Yao’s stone buildings were more comfortable. But since his mate liked it…

He nodded. “Then we’ll come again.”

As for whether the temple would welcome them—that was irrelevant to Lang Ze. He had countless ways to make the Beast God City open its gates.

The warm breeze lulled Qi Bai to sleep at the window. When he woke again, the sky outside was dark.

He sat up groggily. “Has the banquet started?”

Lang Ze stepped inside. “That banquet’s nothing special. Sleep a little more.”

While Qi Bai napped, Lang Ze had already scouted the surroundings and learned what was happening at the banquet.

Qi Bai rubbed his stomach. After sleeping, he felt hungry. “Forget it, let’s go see if they’ve got anything good to eat.”

It was a banquet after all—there had to be food. And since they’d eaten Danmu fruit, they didn’t need to be as cautious as back in the City of Ten Thousand Bones. Free food from the temple wasn’t to be wasted.

The Starry Banquet was also held on the fifth level, in a courtyard on the mountain’s outer face, bathed in starlight.

Even before seeing the courtyard fully, Qi Bai heard the murmur of water and the soft strains of music.

Rounding a decorative wall, he finally understood why it was called the Starry Banquet.

More than a dozen beastmen in flowing jiao sha sat beneath ancient trees by a waterfall.

Some plucked zithers, others played flutes. Their gauzy robes swayed in the breeze, their fine features painted a scene as exquisite as a classical scroll.

But what truly stunned the eye was not their beauty, but their hair—long, deep blue, with countless points of light flickering through it, like stars scattered across the night sky.

“Whoosh—”

A line of butterflies glided gracefully overhead.

They shimmered with bioluminescence, and each beat of their wings shed falling sparks of light—like a vast starry sea cascading down.

Qi Bai reached out to catch one, but the specks vanished midair, as untouchable as real stars.

“They are the Xing Die clan,” came a voice.

Qi Bai turned to see Jia had joined him.

“Die clan…” Qi Bai whispered. “I’ve never seen them elsewhere. They are truly beautiful.”

“Xing Die take thirty years to cocoon and emerge. Yet their beauty lasts only a year. With the Grand Ritual held once every ten years, you will never see the same butterfly twice.”

“Beauty is the most useless thing,” Jia said, eyes on the banquet hall. “From birth they are caged. No one remembers their old forms. Only once they emerge as butterflies are they displayed, toyed with, admired like ornaments.”

The Xing Die attendants glided among the guests with clay jars, smiling emotionlessly as they poured the temple’s strong liquor.

One cup after another, beastmen unused to alcohol grew giddy, laughing foolishly at the attendants.

“Do you still think they are beautiful? To me, they are less than slaves.”

Qi Bai’s hand dropped back, his brow furrowing. “The Beast God City really is not like our little cities.”

Jia’s expression didn’t change.

“Do you know why I know the Xing Die so well?” He looked away casually. “Because my mother was one of them.”

Qi Bai turned sharply. Even Lang Ze spared him a glance.

“Don’t worry. I inherited my father’s beast form. I will not cocoon, nor die so soon.”

Lang Ze asked bluntly, “Why tell us this?”

“Everyone believes a Xing Die child cannot hold a temple post. The Great High Priest was merciful, overlooking this, allowing me as the exception. Yet even his light cannot shine everywhere. To avoid being trampled, one must grow strong oneself.”

He looked directly at Lang Ze. “Isn’t that right, City Lord Lang Ze?”

Inside, the banquet buzzed. Delegates from various cities clustered in groups. Many faces were unfamiliar to Qi Bai. The gods themselves were absent—these must be the envoys sent in their stead.

This wasn’t a banquet—it was a stage.

The air at this corner grew tense. Jia’s words made plain the temple’s fragile peace; the Great High Priest’s balance was crumbling, and all were being forced to choose sides.

“That’s your problem, not mine,” Lang Ze said coolly.

He had never hidden his slave origins, nor felt shame. Using that to bait him into allegiance was pointless.

Qi Bai cut the tension with a sudden remark: “I’ve heard plenty of cities speak of their hardships these past days.”

He picked up a damp fruit. In this frozen world, only the Beast God City still had such freshness.

Here there was not only fruit but vegetables and meat piled like hills, far beyond the appetite of those present. The entire courtyard was encircled by a vast lattice wall made of bird bones.

On the snowy plains outside, bird bone was priceless. Yet here, it was mere decoration.

Such extravagance, such decadence—while across the temple’s domains, countless were suffering.

“Earthquakes, droughts… and our Beizhou’s bitter cold. Many tribes are being driven from their lands, many beastmen dying quietly. Jia Shenshi, are you aware of this?”

Jia nodded.

“And what does the temple plan to do?”

He thought a moment. “It’s said the Xian Ling could foresee the earth’s changes. Since their disappearance, no beastman has that power. These are forces beyond our control. Even the temple cannot prevent them.”

Qi Bai shook his head. He shouldn’t have expected more—he’d only been fooling himself.

He forced a smile. “The God Envoy is right. Looks like we’ll have to find our own solutions.”

“Jia, well?”

As soon as Qi Bai and Lang Ze left, Bi Shenshi rushed up eagerly.

Jia said nothing, only stared thoughtfully at their retreating backs.

After hearing his explanation, Qi Bai no longer felt like admiring the banquet’s splendor.

He and Lang Ze circled the laden tables, slipping food into a hide sack under cover of darkness.

Xia Furen noticed their antics and laughed softly. In all the centuries of Starry Banquets, this was surely the first time anyone had packed leftovers to take home.

Qi Bai winked at her: Please keep our secret.

Smiling, Xia Furen distracted the eyes of others watching them.

Tonight, she wore a long robe sewn from the light-purple cloth Qi Bai had gifted her.

On the Beastman Continent, purple pelts were nearly impossible to find. Most cloth was undyed. No wonder her entrance caused such a stir.

With lustrous Lingzhu pearls at her neck and hair, she outshone even the Xing Die beauties.

Of course, only her high status made this possible. On any lesser beastman, it would have backfired.

Thanks to Xia Furen’s cover, Qi Bai and Lang Ze finished packing food, even slipping a jug of wine, and quietly slipped out.

Before leaving, Qi Bai noticed Xiang Rui skulking nearby.

He stopped a Xing Die attendant.

The butterfly youth smiled gently, lips closed.

Xiang Rui flushed, looking away, and whispered: “Have you ever seen a sub-beastman named Suo…”

Qi Bai didn’t hear the rest. But thinking of the Xing Die’s fleeting lives…

He sighed silently. Whoever Xiang Rui sought, he was destined never to find them.