Chapter 178

Qi Bai straightened up from the small vegetable patch and leaned over the fence, saying, “We need a male wild duck—those with plumage in many colors. We’ll let them breed.”

Lang Ze nodded thoughtfully, gazing at the duck egg in his hand. What he was pondering, Qi Bai didn’t know.

After feeding the young ducks, the two grabbed brooms and swept the cave and the small bamboo pavilion outside. Though they no longer live there, Qi Bai insists on cleaning it periodically—it was their first home on the beastfolk continent after all.

Such sentimentality isn’t common. As they descended the stone steps toward the tribe’s square, they passed abandoned caves to their left.

Opening the warehouse doors, Qi Bai remarked, “Once the curing meat in the training grounds is done, we can exchange some caves from the tribe.”

The current warehouse was the first cave they used when the tribe arrived at Black Mountain, but with more people and supplies arriving, it’s clearly too small. The leftover caves nearby could be swapped for using labor points.

Lang Ze glanced both sides and pointed to the elders’ caves—those belonging to Zhu Zhu and Xiang Yu—and said, “We can start by trading with them.”

Those caves are right next to the warehouse and could be used as-is or expanded.

Inside the warehouse, they moved rattan baskets from the racks and corners to the entrance.

If all goes well, they’ll finish plowing the land in the morning, and sowing can begin shortly after.

They’d come so late specifically to confirm seed quantities before planting.

Qi Bai laid out the barley and soybean seeds at the front. The barley had been traded at the market—only two large baskets. The soybeans came partly from Lang Ze’s gathering and partly from Qi Bai’s own last season’s harvest. Qi Bai didn’t hoard any—he brought them all.

Barley and soybeans were his most anticipated crops—vital for expanding next year.

He estimated that spreading the plants could cover fifty to sixty mu of land.

Next, he gently examined a small packet of especially well-preserved seeds.

Lang Ze looked at the contents in the hide pouch—he’d never seen anything like them. “What are these?”

“These are gourds from Ma Xiang.”

These ‘gourds’ refer to two types of big green and yellow melons unique to the Xi Water Tribe. From the descriptions, Qi Bai thought they resembled winter or summer melons.

He and Ma Xiang had agreed that when they came to trade salt, he’d bring some gourds too.

But the great earthquake destroyed their stock, and what remained was consumed en route, so Qi Bai had never seen the legendary huge gourds.

Fortunately, Ma Xiang remembered their promise and saved the seeds from inside the gourds.

Because it was his first time storing seeds, he hadn’t separated others; many had molded.

Qi Bai cleaned and sun‑dried them, storing the good separately from the flawed ones. He now held the intact portion.

Thinking of the gourds, he slapped his forehead: “We also need to cut branches for trellises.”

Lang Ze asked, “How?”

Recalling the gourd size, Qi Bai corrected himself, “Forget the branches—use whole trunks. These gourds will be too heavy.”

He shaped his hands like a 人-character and continued: “Build supports like this. Ma Xiang said the gourds grew on large stones—so the vines must climb. We’ll set rows of frames for them.”

He added, “These gourds will grow big. We must brace them to keep them from falling.”

Lang Ze took note—now that Hu Huo was building kitchen furniture, these frames fell under his responsibility.

These seeds were few, but gourds spread quickly—these good ones, plus some lesser quality, could cover at least ten mu.

Besides the known seeds, there were mixed ones—small amounts of various kinds Qi Bai had collected or traded.

Qi Bai scratched his head: “I barely remember what’s in here.”

Lang Ze gathered them together and thought: “Let’s set aside a small plot just for these. Then once they grow, we’ll know what each one does.”

Qi Bai nodded emphatically. “Oh, and we still have wood-flower seeds! Do you see them anywhere?”

After working through most of the afternoon checking seeds, they headed to the cellar to tally the remaining sweet potatoes and taro.

One oddly amusing—and suddenly beneficial—thing was the radish Qi Bai planted last season.

Seeds didn’t come from buried radishes themselves, but from their flowering vine—producing many radish seeds instead.

Once he discovered the seed pods, Qi Bai also collected wild radish seeds from the forest.

Thanks to those, they don’t need to save radishes for seed like they do with sweet potatoes.

Next day around midday.

Just as planned, the field’s soil had been mostly leveled.

But Qi Bai had no intention of sowing yet.

Lang Ze and horned beastfolk went into the woods to cut trees for the gourd frames. The sub-beastfolk remained in the field, crushing clods and gathering the unearthed stones.

At that moment, Rabbit Ya and Diao Lan rode up in a cart.

Rabbit Ya jumped down, shading her eyes, and finally spotted Qi Bai’s position. She ran over to him: “Bao Bai, we brought the dry grass!”

Qi Bai stood, wiped sweat, lifted a basket of stones, and walked to the field with Rabbit Ya.

Perhaps it was just Qi Bai’s imagination, but the sun felt especially harsh—half a day’s work left him drenched.

Rabbit Ya pointed to a nearby cart: “All the leftover dry grass is here.”

Before winter, they stored much dry grass for the four‑ear sheep. With spring’s pasture, the grass was left unused—though not much remained.

At the cart, Diao Lan gathered some slightly damp grass. “This is from this morning. Why so much?”

“To burn the field.”

Rabbit Ya and Diao Lan exchanged puzzled glances—they didn’t understand.

Qi Bai planned a unique final step: burn the field before planting—lessons learned from his first small garden by the cave.

Even in that small patch, pests had devoured crops; most insects came from soil-born eggs.

He’d noticed plenty of bugs during plowing—plus many dormant eggs.

The rich, soft soil of Black Mountain, like China’s black earth, naturally supports both plants and insects—bugs would devastate crops.

They had no pesticide, and manual pest control was impossible.

Also, weed seeds in the soil would compete with crops for nutrients.

So Qi Bai decided to burn the field before planting—won’t eliminate all pests, but surface eggs and weed seeds would mostly be destroyed, making sowing easier.

That’s why they left low-growing weeds unpulled—they’d burn too. And any pulled weeds or sheep fodder stayed on the field—burnable and hassle-free.

Qi Bai put a finger to his lips and whistled sharply. Sub-beastfolk in the field lifted their heads, grabbed tools, and ran forward.

Everyone followed his instructions—sprinkling dry grass evenly on the field to ignite quickly. Once it caught, new growth would burn too.

After spreading it all, Qi Bai moved people to the outer canal and handed out iron mattocks and buckets.

Though the water channel surrounded the field, sparks could drift—so precautions were needed.

Qi Bai tossed in torches into the grass piles, instantly running off the stone bridge to the opposite side.

Dry grass ignited even faster than expected. Flames leapt, illuminating massive swathes.

This was why burning stubble was banned—such speed could accidentally burn the mountain.

Beastfolk both feared and revered fire. Seeing the flames, many were moved—and some even danced circling the trench.

As if nature itself approved, today brought no wind. Sparks rose slowly with stout smoke, drifting straight upward.

Qi Bai, looking up, couldn’t see its end. Even Lang Ze and the others in the nearby forest noticed the towering plume.

Niu Xin, skipping work to wipe his eyes, said, “Half a day’s passed—why is the smoke still so thick?”

Beastfolk’s noses are sharp—even at a distance, the smoke stung.

Others were uncomfortable too, though less dramatic than Niu Xin.

Lang Ze, who’d been silently chopping, motioned for silence.

His squad—some of the tribe’s strongest warriors—immediately stopped. The forest fell silent.

Lang Ze twitched his ears and stiffened.

Everyone then heard a dull rumble.

Before they could identify it, Lang Ze dashed off.

When the rest reached the forest edge, they held their breath.

Niu Xin’s eyes widened in disbelief.

What… what were those?

Across the plain, a dozen giant “beasts” burst into a run.

Beast was the only word for those creatures. Though in human form, they towered well above even Xiang Yu in beast form.

Impossible!

What on earth are they?!

“They’re heading toward the fields!”