Chapter 365

Mu Jia’s reply came faster than Qi Bai expected. He readily agreed not only to the issues Qi Bai raised about commerce between the two sides but also to the resettlement and migration of displaced people.

This result was not outside Qi Bai’s expectations.

After all, the one who ultimately made decisions was the Great Shensi, and the Great Shensi was practically willing to hand the entire Shendian to Qi Bai—let alone a single grassland.

There was even something Mu Jia didn’t say out loud.

When Mu Wei heard that Qi Bai didn’t want the Beast God City but instead insisted on remaining in Beizhou, his first instinct had been to get up, lead the Mu Xiang clan, and follow Qi Bai back to Hei Yao.

Qi Bai’s complete lack of attachment to the eternally springlike Sacred Mountain, choosing instead to return north, was in itself proof that Beizhou was not ordinary.

Mu Wei had forced his eyes open.
“Perhaps the saying that the north is the dwelling place of the Beast God… was true all along. We should go north!”

“Red Chai is destroyed, no other tribe can cause much trouble. As long as I succeed you as Great Shensi, I can protect the Mu Xiang clan.”

Mu Jia dropped to his knees beside the bed.
“Mother-Father, I have come this far. Please help me. Don’t leave me, alright?”

That one cry of mother-father made Mu Wei fall silent, tears slowly welling as he stared at the canopy above.

Of course Mu Jia was not his own child. Mu Wei, awakened with the Qi Ling’s god-blood, was destined to devote everything to the Beast God, never to have children of his own.

But this boy, who had followed him ever since he could first take human form—how could he not have poured all his love and energy into raising him like his own son?

Once, little Mu Jia would cling to his knees and call him mother-father. In a blink, so many years had passed since he last heard that call.

Mu Wei had always known Mu Jia’s ambitions. He had never stopped him. Even after the Divine Child appeared, even knowing he would lose his hold on Mu Jia, he still gave him his bone token.

Mu Wei could not understand himself. Outwardly, he hoped Mu Jia would embrace the Divine Child and fulfill the Mu Xiang clan’s ancient wish. But deep down, he wanted his child to achieve his own goal.

His thoughts drifted who knows where, until at last he simply turned his head silently toward the bed’s inner side.

Mu Wei said nothing. But that silence was exactly what Mu Jia needed.

---

“You as the Divine Child will remain a secret. Even the rest of the Mu Xiang clan will not know.”

Qi Bai said,
“I have no interest in this title. But without a Divine Child, how will you deal with the Mu Xiang’s Summoning Plan?”

“I have other methods,” said Mu Jia.
“Don’t worry. My parents died because of that plan. I won’t let what happened to me happen again.”

Qi Bai nodded.
“Good.”

As he turned without a trace of longing, Mu Jia finally asked the question that weighed on him:
“The Beast God City is right here, within your reach. Once you leave now, you’ll never again have such a chance. Are you truly willing to give it up?”

Qi Bai stopped, amused, and looked back.
“Shensi-daren, you’ve chosen the wrong opponent. I never once thought of staying here. I’ve no interest in your Beast God City.”

Mu Jia said quietly,
“Even with the Great Shensi’s promises, you still guard against me.”

“It’s not that I guard against you—it’s that your schemes run too deep.” Qi Bai chuckled. “Let me guess a little.”

He raised one finger.
“If the Great Shensi’s words held weight, then when Hei Yao left Sacred Mountain’s market, you would have explained things to us.”

A second finger.
“Or, at Yan’a, you would have proactively allied with us to strike Red Chai together.”

A third finger.
“At the very least, now that we’ve reached the Beast God City, Bao Xi’s army should have returned to Ji City.”

“And yet—what happened?”

“At the market, you merely blocked Red Chai. Perhaps you thought: the Great Shensi won’t last long anyway, so letting Hei Yao return north was already the best outcome.”

“At Yan’a Canyon, you stood aside. If Hei Yao’s army hadn’t shocked you, perhaps you’d have struck us down right then.”

“And even now—look. Ji City and the Shendian armies are on full alert.”

“You are measuring and weighing whether Hei Yao’s Jisi and City Lord speak truth. The instant we showed even the slightest interest in the Great Shensi’s seat, you would’ve attacked without hesitation.”

Mu Jia’s pale eyes glimmered in the sunlight, his voice calm, not angry at being seen through.
“Since you already knew this, why dare come to Sacred Mountain at all?”

“If Hei Yao wanted your Sacred City, do you think we need to wait for timing?” Qi Bai winked.
“You don’t seriously believe Ji City and the Beast God City armies could frighten us? That Sacred Mountain’s walls could protect you?”

He gazed down at Hei Yao’s bustling camp.
“I simply won’t drag my people into pointless wars. I won’t let them bleed in vain.”

Mu Jia was silent for a while, then suddenly asked,
“And your question back then—what was your answer?”

Qi Bai blinked before realizing: Mu Jia was talking about the Star Banquet.

Back then he had asked Mu Jia—how would the Shendian handle natural disasters?

“There is no correct answer,” Qi Bai shook his head. “The point is how you see it.”

“Houses collapse—you rebuild. Droughts and floods—you treat them. Cold winters—you store grain. The key is whether those in charge want to help, want to save.”

A flicker of doubt crossed Mu Jia’s eyes.

Qi Bai said softly,
“You still don’t understand why we return to Beizhou, do you?”

“Because in Beizhou, my people await. They may not be my blood-kin, but as long as they are loyal to Hei Yao, I will protect them. For a day, a year—even for generations.”

To Qi Bai, the Shendian’s knowledge and experience of survival were not inferior to humans on Lan Xing. But they hoarded it, indifferent to their subjects’ lives. That was the real problem.

Truthfully, Mu Jia had courage and strategy. Qi Bai believed he had what it took to rule. But like all Shendian beastmen, he had not yet realized that while enjoying worship, they also bore responsibility.

Not that they had to “love the people like children,” but at least not abandon them. Without people, what meaning is there in territory?

Still, the Beastman Continent was not Lan Xing. There was no concept of a nation, let alone a true theocracy. Even tribes might not accept his views.

People’s thinking could not be changed overnight. Qi Bai had said his piece—now time must do the rest.

Hand in hand with Lang Ze, his figure disappeared at the stone stair’s end.

Mu Jia stared long at their departing backs before turning to ascend the steps himself.

---

Atop the mountain the winds shifted; below, the mood was much lighter.

Tun Quan had just set meat to roast when he noticed a pale, clean-looking beastman sneaking closer.

The fellow thought he was well hidden, crawling in the grass like a seal sniffing the air—yet Tun Quan had spotted him instantly.

Quietly stepping behind, Tun Quan tapped a fire stick against his palm and barked:
“A spy! Catch you and I’ll earn a reward.”

The pale beastman exploded like a firecracker, tumbling and waving his head desperately.
“No, no, no! I’m not a spy! My brother is Bao Xi, my father is Nie Shensi, my grandfather is Yong Shensi—I swear I’m not a spy!”

Qi Bai, walking over at the commotion, burst into laughter.

How could a spy recite his family tree before even being interrogated?

Tun Quan kept up the menace.
“Then why sneak into our camp?”

The pale youth pouted.
“I didn’t mean to! But what are you cooking? It smells so good I couldn’t resist!”

“Oh ho, isn’t that Bao Peng?”

At a familiar voice, the youth’s eyes lit.
“Luo Shu! You’re here?!”

Since it was someone known, Qi Bai waved warmly.
“Perfect timing. We’re making dinner. Come eat with us.”

By Lan Xing’s kinship reckoning, Bao Peng was a distant cousin. Taking care of a cousin wasn’t unreasonable.

Bao Peng’s eyes went round with delight. “How could I impose—” but his feet carried him over faster than anyone.

Reaching Qi Bai, he slowed, flashing a fawning smile at Lang Ze. Clearly, he had already sensed who here was least to cross.

Luo Shu, perched on a stump, handed Bao Peng a skewer.
“He’s Nie Shensi’s youngest son from Ji City. I traveled with him to Ji City before.”

Luo Shu coughed softly, muttering to Qi Bai and Lang Ze,
“Some of the news I got earlier came through him.”

Bao Peng, oblivious, happily munched his meat while squatting by Hei Yao’s charcoal pit.

Yes, a charcoal pit.

Unlike Qi Bai and Lang Ze who were busy negotiating, the beastmen in camp had free time.

Not wanting more burnt meat, Tun Quan and Xi Zhou had dug pits to make charcoal during off-hours.

With kilns back in Hei Yao, most clansfolk rarely made charcoal anymore—why bother when firewood could be traded for clean-burning charcoal? Many newer settlers had never made it at all.

But Tun Quan and Xi Zhou, veterans of the Black Mountain, had built many earth kilns before. So they casually buried wood in a pit and produced charcoal.

Luo Shu caught them and joined in. Now, roasting meat together in the pit, the lot of them feasted.

Bao Peng’s eyes widened as fat dripped and sizzled.
“So this is how you use charcoal.”

Luo Shu kicked him.
“You didn’t know I was here? When did you sneak over?”

Bao Peng plopped beside him, still chewing.
“Father said I was a nuisance, told me to train with my brother. I’ve been with Ji City’s troops the whole time.”

Yet despite that, he hadn’t seen Luo Shu’s Qingchi clan at the battle. Clearly, his training had gone to waste.

Luo Shu scowled.
“Your side’s strict. How’d you get out?”

“Didn’t sneak—I was peeing,” Bao Peng said cheerfully, eyes darting. He pointed at some warriors hauling huge logs.
“What are they doing? Why does Hei Yao cut so many trees?”

Logs two men thick, hard to chop—obviously not for firewood.

Luo Shu looked helplessly to Qi Bai.

Qi Bai only smiled, handing Bao Peng a pouch of spice powder.
“This is Hei Yao’s seasoning. Our meat tastes good because of this. Take it as a gift.”

Bao Peng’s eyes lit up. Food trumped all.

He eagerly accepted, forgetting all else.

Not one to take without giving, he fumbled until finally removing a fang from his neck.
“This is a flame-python fang. Not rare, but I killed it myself. For you.”

Before Qi Bai could reply, Lang Ze’s icy voice cut in:
“My mate doesn’t take another man’s trophies.”

Bao Peng’s hand didn’t even pause—he just curved it mid-air and handed it to Hu Xiao instead.
“Then you—”

Luo Shu snatched it.
“Enough. Give it to me. I’ll settle the score for you.” He shoved another skewer into Bao Peng’s hand.

Sensing the topic was closed, Bao Peng nonetheless soon began chattering again.
“Life in the wild is tough… but soon we’ll be leaving.”

Hu Xiao asked,
“Why?”

Bao Peng leaned close, lowering his voice.
“I heard the things Hei Yao wanted—Red Chai already gathered them.”

Luo Shu was shocked.
“So fast?”

Qi Bai too was surprised. He had given Red Chai ten days, ready to take action himself. He hadn’t expected them to be so… cooperative. Very unlike them.

Bao Peng grinned.
“How could they not? The other clans ‘helped.’”

Though Red Chai resisted, the other tribes forced them.

With Hei Yao camped right below Sacred Mountain, every day the Shensi awoke to the chants of Hei Yao’s drills, gazed down at ranks of grim warriors. Terrified, they only wanted Hei Yao gone.

So they hurried to gather the supplies.

But Red Chai alone could not. Even tearing down their housing would not suffice.

“No problem—other clans pitched in,” Bao Peng smirked.
“One gave a hundred carts of bird-bones, another two hundred carts of hides… soon it all added up.”

In truth, it was less Red Chai’s contribution than all the clans’ enforced “assistance.”

By the end, the other clans had almost nothing left in Beast God City.

Yet they didn’t feel cheated—they feared missing their turn. After all, this wasn’t free. Inspired by Qi Bai, they traded not only goods but territory.

No supplies? Fine—offer land or cities instead.

“They say Red Chai’s Shensi fainted from rage several times. Pity the Shendian has so many medicines. He can’t even die.”

Luo Shu clicked his tongue. Truly ruthless.

With most of their warriors dead, Red Chai’s lands and wealth stripped, they were finished. Perhaps that had been the others’ goal all along.

Bao Peng finally remembered his excuse. If he didn’t return, his clan would search for him.

He tucked away his spice pouch.
“Your food’s amazing. I’ll come to Beizhou myself one day.”

Qi Bai thought: in the next few years, your father and brother will never allow it.

As Bao Peng said, on the fourth day after Qi Bai and Lang Ze returned to camp—six days after the Twelve Shensi meeting—the gates of Beast God City opened.

Endless streams of horned beastmen hauled carts of supplies down the mountain.

The cargo was sorted and queued for Hei Yao’s inspection and loading. With so much, it took nearly a thousand Hei Yao warriors two full days to load everything.

Ma Ling stood by, eyes wide as bird-bones were stacked into carts.

From their shapes, it was clear Red Chai’s houses had literally been torn apart. The carved walls themselves were being carted off.

Such extravagance—the Shendian had used bird-bones for buildings. Ma Ling marveled.

Still, bird-bones could be reshaped, so he didn’t mind—even flat panels packed better.

After filling a cart, Ma Ling would press down hard, cramming in even one more sheet before approving. Only then could the cart be taken.

Mu Pi twitched his lips. He had never seen anyone more stubborn.

Ma Ling never cheated, but never lost either. A cart was a cart. Not one gap less. As Hei Yao’s chief quartermaster, only his approval made supplies valid.

Finally, Mu Pi handed him the last bundle of rope.
“This is the last batch. With this, all is complete.”

Ma Ling wrote it down, checked against the remaining empty carts, then closed his ledger.
“Matches on my end too.”

Mu Pi craned his neck at the paper and charcoal, eyes hungry.

Ma Ling waved the booklet.
“Convenient, right? Want one?”

Mu Pi’s eyes lit.
“Yes!”

But instead of giving it, Ma Ling eagerly explained:
“You can trade for it. One hide for one booklet. Cheap back in Hei Yao.”

Mu Pi: “…”

With goods tallied, Mu Pi left without a backward glance. Hei Yao were unbearable.

Ma Ling tucked away his ledger. Seems the Great Shensi’s personal Shensi wasn’t as wealthy as imagined.

The sleds were swapped for wheeled carts, all supplies bound tight.

Hei Yao kept their word. The very next morning, under countless watching eyes from Sacred Mountain, they marched away with the supplies.

Cang Xie lounged atop a laden bull, chewing grass.
“This city… not much after all. Hei Yao’s more fun.”

When Qi Bai and Lang Ze had first arrived, the world was frozen in ice. By the time they left, the snow had melted, buds swelled on branches—spring had come.

At the grassland’s edge, Luo Shu, carrying his share of spoils, bid farewell.

“Please spread word across the plains: Silver Moon and Hei Yao have returned.”

Luo Shu patted his chest.
“The plains’ guardians have come back. This news will fly like wings across the steppe.”