Chapter 358

Qi Bai said calmly: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Yong Shensi chuckled, utterly unconcerned as he planted his wooden staff into the snow: “When your father returned to the temple, he was the same age you are now.”

A hint of nostalgia colored his gaze. “Seeing you reminds me of when I first laid eyes on him. Whether in fur color or temperament, you are exactly the same as your father. In the blink of an eye, nearly thirty years have passed. Time is swift indeed.”

Qi Bai thought, So it really is like that, but outwardly he showed mild surprise. “You knew my father?”

“Of course I did. Our relationship was very close. Yu’s father was my own brother.” Yong Shensi sighed, with a touch of self-blame. “Unfortunately, after my brother died, I failed to look after his cub. Yu was forced to leave the protection of his kin while still young.”

“Now the same suffering has befallen you. My poor child—before you were even born, you had already lost your father. All these years, you must have endured much hardship alone.”

“Yong Shensi, I fear you’ve mistaken me for someone else.” Qi Bai shook his head sorrowfully. “I am a Fengbao beastman. I have always lived in Dong Yi. How could my father be one of your kin?”

“There’s nothing here to prove our identities,” Qi Bai pressed. “Perhaps it’s merely a coincidence of fur color.”

Yong Shensi hesitated, then slowly slipped a hand into his cloak, unfastening a bone blade from his waist.

Qi Bai accepted it, and his eyes lit up—it was a bone knife forged from the spine of a Xuan Niao.

Unlike the small, simple dagger-sized Xuan Niao knife he carried himself, this one was large, sheathed, and clearly crafted to symbolize prestige.

The scabbard was hollowed and ornate, exquisite in detail. Even the securing cord was braided from shimmering strands of jiao silk—unmistakably made in the temple.

“This was a blade I commissioned for your father after he returned to Lingbao,” Yong Shensi explained. “Sadly, after leaving the temple he never came back, and this bone knife was left without an owner. Now, it should return to its rightful place.”

Qi Bai clutched the knife tightly to his chest. This was a Xuan Niao spine—its worth alone was astronomical. And this wasn’t a mere dagger—it was a grand blade. To receive it was like being handed a golden sword he could pawn at any time.

For such generosity, Qi Bai decided to give him some face.

“This truly is my father’s relic,” Qi Bai lowered his eyes. “But as an outcast like me, no matter where I go… perhaps it will always be the same.”

Yong Shensi’s eyelids twitched. Leopard Yu died before you were even born. How could you recognize his relic?

What’s more, this knife had taken three years to make. It was intended for Leopard Yu, yes—but that short-lived one never survived to see its completion. From the day it was finished, it had been Yong Shensi’s own weapon, even inlaid with gems befitting a Shensi.

But he had already spoken. As long as Qi Bai acknowledged himself as Ling bao, all was well.

Yong Shensi steadied himself, forcing his gaze away from his beloved blade. “My child, do not think such thoughts.”

“Your father, barely in his twenties, became the youngest third-rank warrior of the temple, and the first of Ling bao’s generation to become a Shenshi through his own strength.”

“That year, all of Beast God City spoke of him. Horned beastmen admired him, sub-beastmen adored him. It was the liveliest the Sacred Mountain had been in decades.”

“He was a warrior worthy of respect. You share his fur and now his achievements. When you return to the temple, you will surely shine brighter than he ever did.”

Qi Bai curved his lips faintly. There it is—after all that sentiment, the old fox finally shows his hand.

But Qi Bai wasn’t going to play along. He lifted his head innocently. “Grandfather Shensi, could you tell me more about my father?”

Qi Bai hadn’t answered his offer. Yong Shensi didn’t rush, only nodded kindly, as if he had summoned Qi Bai out here for nothing more than reminiscing.

Leopard Yu’s life had been brief, his time in the temple a fleeting flash. No matter how Yong Shensi tried to weave closeness, there were only a handful of things that truly involved him.

When the previous Great Shensi lay dying, the obsession with divine blood was at its height. Everyone believed that mastering the Divine Blood race would allow one to become the next Great Shensi.

At that time, the Hong Chai clan—who had never cooperated with others on the matter of divine blood—suddenly invited the seven great clans of Beast God City to join forces, to seek out divine blood together.

This was the so-called Divine Blood Revival Project.

In the end, nine beastmen were selected from the seven clans, dispatched across the continent.

Of course, such cruel experiments to force out divine blood could not be exposed. So the entire plan was spearheaded by Hong Chai’s Mu Shensi, while the other six clans merely supplied resources. Aside from the nine chosen and the seven leaders, almost no one knew of it.

Qi Bai raised a brow. “Such a great secret, and you’re simply telling me?”

“Once it was a secret, yes. But decades have passed. Those people are dead or imprisoned. Even if others know, nothing can change.”

For an instant, the feigned benevolence vanished from Yong Shensi’s face.

What’s more, the six clans had been deceived from the start.

The so-called nine chosen? Mostly Hong Chai’s own pawns. They enjoyed resources from all seven clans, yet much of it flowed straight into Hong Chai’s hands.

If not for Leopard Yu’s death, Yong Shensi might have thought him another Hong Chai spy. After all, in the twenty years following Yu’s disappearance, no one knew where he had gone.

Qi Bai lowered his lashes. Nothing but dogs biting dogs. Why pity the six clans? Had they not condoned Hong Chai’s cruelty, they would never have been deceived.

Yong Shensi looked toward the Hao Xiong tribes. “They are Hong Chai’s pawns. They killed your father back then, and now they wish you harm. Qi Bai, my child, you must return to Lingbao, return to Beast God City.”

Qi Bai blinked wide-eyed. “Really, Grandfather Shensi?”

Yong Shensi smiled warmly. “Of course. The temple always had a Shensi seat meant for your line. Return to Lingbao, and I will help you claim what is rightfully yours.”

Qi Bai nodded eagerly. “Then let’s go now?”

Yong Shensi froze. “Go where?”

“Back to Beast God City!” Qi Bai said brightly. “Grandfather Shensi, I’ll follow you back now. Being a Shensi sounds far grander than being Hei Yao’s Great Priest.”

“Qi Bai…” Yong Shensi’s tone grew stern. “The temple is not child’s play. We seek great endeavors. Hei Yao’s weapons and wealth are vital to us. You mustn’t joke at such a time.”

“Grandfather Shensi, I’ve long tired of being Hei Yao’s Great Priest.” Qi Bai lowered his voice, glancing around. “You don’t know, do you? The City Lord of Hei Yao was once my slave. Now he’s the lord—I don’t live easily under him.”

“…Do you know how Hei Yao’s weapons are made?”

Qi Bai shook his head innocently. “No.” And truly, he didn’t. He only provided ideas—the actual crafting was Hou Su and Ci Yi’s work.

“Who dares take my people!”

Lang Ze’s deep growl erupted beside them.

Qi Bai jumped back a step, feigning fear—but really clearing a path for him.

At the same time, two figures darted out, instantly blocking before Yong Shensi.

They were tense, for they felt from this young horned beastman a power not weaker than theirs—perhaps stronger.

It was shocking. They were both third-rank warriors, yet this youth’s strength surpassed even Yu Shenshi’s of old.

Their talk cut short, Yong Shensi showed no anger. Half-jesting, he said: “City Lord of Hei Yao, I only invited your Great Priest. By appearing here, are you not violating the pact between our two clans?”

Lang Ze met his gaze squarely. “Didn’t the Great Shensi also break the pact first?”

As Yong Shensi’s eyes shifted behind him, Qi Bai scowled at Lang Ze’s back.

Sensing it, Lang Ze sidestepped and swept Qi Bai up under his arm. “He’s mine. I’ll be taking him now. The night is cold—Shensi, you’d best return to rest.”

Yong Shensi’s guards tensed, ready to move, but he lifted a hand to halt them.

His eyelids drooped now, none of the warmth from before on his face.

Whatever games they played, Hei Yao would be his eventually.

Clamped under Lang Ze’s arm, Qi Bai even flailed convincingly, shouting: “Let me go! Let me go!”

Lang Ze chuckled, patting his backside. “Fun?”

Qi Bai’s face flushed red. “Fun.”

Sliding free, he presented the bone knife proudly.

Lang Ze laughed. “And you dare take his precious blade? Aren’t you afraid you’ve truly angered him?”

“He still needs me to bridge ties with Hei Yao. Even if he’s angry, it won’t be now. Why not take it?”

Settling down, Qi Bai recalled Cang Shensi’s dying words. “Seems what Mao Guang said wasn’t all lies.”

No wonder Cang Shensi hadn’t dared refute him. The truth of those years would indeed turn all clans against Hong Chai.

“The one pulling all strings—Mu Shensi—is no simple figure,” Lang Ze said.

Clack.

In a vast chamber, carved stone game-pieces fell onto a stone board, echoing faintly.

“These years underground have been dull. I made this toy to pass the time. I’d hoped to play against you—but who would’ve thought, you’ve already fallen.”

Clack.

Another piece landed. Six sides’ pieces surged in from every direction, converging on the center of the board.