Chapter 175

A wild mouse gnawed on grass roots in the shrubbery, its ears twitching as it stood upright and glanced into the distance.

Then came a thunderous rumble of cart wheels. More than twenty war-cart wagons—made with bone wheels and packed with beastfolk—rolled into the open plain.

The mouse instantly squeaked in alarm; the tall shrubs swayed wildly as small creatures scattered in all directions.

Those beastfolk are back again—there’ll be no peace for us now, they thought.

It was the Black Mountain Tribe’s carts. Today marked the tribe’s second day of breaking new ground.

They had arrived at a flat plain at the base of the mountain—land Qi Bai had carefully chosen for its farming potential.

When the tribe first built their wall, Qi Bai had already sketched out some farmland, but the population was only around fifty then, so a few terrace patches on the mountain’s lower slopes sufficed. Now with over three hundred people—and more likely to come—they needed far more arable land.

What caught Qi Bai’s eye was this flat stretch about an hour away from the tribe, where irrigation and sunlight came naturally. Crucially, the river—known as the Cannibal River—ran along the field’s edge. Since the ice had melted, the river swelled even higher. Such a river, ample flat land, and clear skies—fertile ground indeed.

The carts came to a slow stop. Beastfolk leapt down one after another.

Diao Lan hauled tools off the wagon and commented, “I think the grass on the land is taller than yesterday.”

After just a few days of spring, vegetation had exploded—covering entire forests. This fertile soil near the mountain’s foothills was now nearly buried in plant growth.

Normally, lush growth meant abundant food for gathering—but for land-clearing, it was a real obstacle.

Sub-beastfolk Niu Lin, carrying a basket, said tentatively, “So when we plant our seeds, we might end up with this much edible growth?”

His offhand comment lifted every spirit—imagine huge harvests of turnips and sweet potatoes across all this land!

Rabbit Ya chimed in eagerly, “We need to plant lots of crops then. Bao Bai, the land you marked out isn’t enough—we can farm even more!”

Qi Bai had drawn a “field” character (田) shape in the dirt, where each of the four “boxes” was about one hundred mu. That’s approximately 400 mu—walk along one side of this square, it’s around 500 meters. The total area was about 250,000 square meters.

But the tribe’s beastfolk didn’t blink—what food ten thousand square meters? They had a built-in cheat code, their sheer beast form power. Ancient China’s ox could manage 40–50 mu a year; imagine beastfolk!

Still, Qi Bai raised a concern: “It’s not about ability—I’m worried we don’t have enough seeds. Planting four hundred mu would use almost all the seeds in our stores. And we can’t use all our grain.”

For seed crops like barley or soybeans, each mu needed a dozen catties; root crops like sweet potatoes or taro needed over fifty catties per mu. Using everything would leave nothing and put the tribe at risk.

Yang Luo also came out to work today. Despite having less food in his share, he didn’t resign himself—he joined the labor efforts, seeing this land-clearing as his chance to contribute.

He tugged at his straw hat. “Enough chatting—get to work! Clear those weeds. Bring back whatever four-eared sheep can eat.”

He was sore from sun and exertion—and then he noticed Pig Tooth’s peeling burn marks. Terrified, he kept his beast-hide coat on tightly and even crafted a grass hat overnight just in case.

The sub-beastfolk laughed: “Don’t worry, Priest—when we find tasty wild greens, we’ll set them aside and not waste the effort.”

Meanwhile, the horned beastfolk unloaded harvesting tools from their carts. Hearing the hearty laughter, the youth eyed the greenery curiously.

Monkey Yan kicked a young beastling and teased, “If you want a companion, do more work and earn points. No food, no match.”

The young warriors laughed and carried giant logs, following Lang Ze off toward the far fields—they had their own tasks too.

The day was bright, birds sang, grass sprouted.

Sub-beastfolk spread across the field, bent and working. They pulled out the tall wild grasses, leaving cleared patches in their wake.

Meanwhile, the horned beastfolk shifted into beast form, calling out, wielding massive logs and iron mattocks while chiseling around the field’s perimeter. Their goal: carve an irrigation ditch enclosing the field before it was fully cleared.

Soon, everyone was hard at work.

Dai, carrying a small rattan basket like a little shadow behind Qi Bai, plucked up a stone the size of two palms and puzzledly asked, “Brother Bao Bai, stones don’t eat—why do we take stones too?”

Qi Bai was scanning the shrubs for edible greens—don’t be fooled, many edible wild herbs are hidden there. In a single sweep, he found faux-leek, bitter greens, and “black-heart” vegetables.

From their names alone, they didn’t sound tasty—but hunger has no judgement.

He explained gently: “Pulling out the wild vegetables is just the first step. Next, we need to plow the field—turn over the soil beneath.”

Nearby, Sun Qing asked, “Why plow?”

Qi Bai looked around—so many people had gathered, listening. These lessons needed to be shared! He spoke with calm clarity:

“Just as we beastfolk need breath, plants do too. If the soil is loose and comfortable to grow in, they’ll live better—and grow faster….”

Dai swallowed. Plants that could breathe, live better—then they would taste better too.

He continued, “So we must clear big stones first. The plow won’t work otherwise.”

Niu Xi nodded earnestly, turning to nearby gatherers: “We must pick up every stone—even embedded ones.”

Plows and iron mattocks were forged with sweat and care—don’t damage them with rocks!

At first, many wondered why farming was so convoluted. Plants grew wildly in forests—even from cracks in stone. Now they had to clear, plow, even dig irrigation—yet beasts fetched their water from waterfalls daily. Now the crops would have water brought to them… true luxury.

If this happened when they first arrived in Black Mountain, people might’ve questioned Bao Bai’s sanity—why farm when you can gather?

But no one raised an eyebrow now.

Original tribe members had seen Qi Bai plant crops the previous spring, and by autumn, even small patches yielded more food than gathering could. Many were impatient to see farming results again.

None more so than Niu Xi—last year Bao Bai gave her a few goji berry plants; now they bore fruit. The fragrance kept many visitors lingering at her door, always asking what delicious thing she made.

The newer members now just followed Bao Bai—they trusted progress.

Around noon, the distant rumbling of carts returned.

“Come eat!”

Someone called out. Workers looked up and ran excitedly toward the carts.

Hu Xue jumped off, the wagon carrying tall bamboo steamers. Securing the stacks, he climbed down, pulling the lids off.

A wave of fresh-frond aroma spilled out.

Steam curled from green veggie dumplings neatly arranged in the steam baskets.

Beastfolk didn’t usually love plants—but nearly six months without fresh greenery had changed things. These bright green dumplings were incredibly uplifting.

Qi Bai tossed his basket down and hurried, hand-in-hand with Dai, toward the wagon.

Though they were farther off, the line in front was long—but he still got his dumpling fast.

He flashed his clean white teeth, joyfully accepted a veggie ball from Lang Ze, blowing on it and offering half to Dai.

“This is bittergreen? But it’s not bitter at all!”

“Mmm, so good!”

Though the tribe was busy with spring farming, many had stayed behind for other tasks: Hu Xue and She Li with sub-beastfolk were collecting goat milk, making tofu and butter, and preparing extra meals for laborers.

These veggie balls were made from greens gathered from the fields yesterday, minced, mixed with sweet potato flour and water, rolled into balls, then steamed.

Tender greens, a hint of sweet potato sweetness, and the faint scent of bamboo… even the simplest ingredients tasted pure and delightful.

Then She Li lifted another steamer lid—Qi Bai sniffed eagerly. The next dish within was steamed milk tofu topped with butter!