Chapter 281

The ancient tree beastman immediately assumed a defensive posture. “I can't make a bone knife like that.”

Qi Bai didn’t care much—he never intended to actually acquire a bone knife. The ancient tree beastman’s reaction, however, was proof enough that he knew of the bone knife, which was more than what even Ji, the chamber attendant, had been able to uncover.

“This bone knife isn't special. Its design is even simpler than many you have hanging on the wall. But you glanced at it and claimed you couldn't forge it.” Qi Bai pushed the bone knife slightly forward. “There's only one explanation: you have seen this bone knife before.”

The ancient tree beastman clasped his hands together, motionless, staring at the tabletop. “The bone knife is in your hands. How could I have ever seen it?”

Qi Bai smiled. “We both know there’s more than one of these bone knives.” With that, he took out Sang Ji’s bone knife and placed both bone knives side by side.

Lang Ze looked on intently, and the ancient tree beastman clearly was stunned by Qi Bai’s move. He couldn’t sit still any longer. Suddenly, he leaned forward and grasped both knives, carefully examining them as if he were verifying their authenticity.

After staring at the two of them for a long moment, the ancient tree beastman raised his head and softly spoke, “You...are you from the temple?”

Qi Bai shook his head. “We are not from the temple. We come from a faraway Beast God’s sanctuary.”

“Beast God's sanctuary… north…” The ancient tree beastman murmured.

“What’s happening here is enough to anger the Beast God. It’s by the Beast God’s guidance that we found you.”

Qi Bai’s words were not illusory. If not for Hu Xiao’s prophecy, neither he nor Lang Ze would have entered this treehouse or met the ancient tree beastman. Everything had been predetermined by fate.

“It doesn’t matter that you can’t recreate the same bone knife. What matters is that you tell us what you know. We need your help.”

The ancient tree beastman seemed torn. He turned his gaze away from Qi Bai’s direct eyes, and finally waved his hand. “You may go.”

Seeing that today yielded no answers, Qi Bai didn’t press. He stowed away his beast-hide bag and prepared to return in a few days.

But as Qi Bai was about to beckon Lang Ze to leave, Lang Ze was drawn to something behind the ancient tree beastman. He rose and walked straight behind him.

When Lang Ze tried to touch it, the ancient tree beastman suddenly darted forward, blocking the wooden rack. “Don’t touch it.”

Lang Ze pointed to the powder on the rack, frowning. “This is Gūjīn. Why do you have gūjīn?”

Though strange, the ancient tree beastman showed no signs of having ingested it.

“You're living alone in the Mist Forest—are you here to consume gold?”

“You’re no different from those in the City of Ten Thousand Bones, seeking to revive this so‑called divine blood using countless innocent beastmen’s lives?”

“No… that’s not it...” Faced with these accusations, the ancient tree beastman trembled, breathing heavily before roaring, “I’m not!”

Seeing his evasive posture, Lang Ze’s chest flared with anger. “Because of that divine blood plan, my tribe suffered genocide! My partner lost her father! How many beastmen have lost their lives, lost their families, for the greed of those people?”

He stepped forward and pinned the beastman to the wall. “I need to know the secret of this bone knife. I need to know everything. I will make those people pay. And if you’re like them, I won't mind you dying before them.”

Lang Ze was powerful. The ancient tree beastman gasped for air, yet offered no resistance—like someone who had exiled himself and now silently accepted judgment.

“Father...” The word seemed to unlock something in him. “Whose bone knife is this?”

When the ancient tree beastman finally spoke, Qi Bai stepped forward and gently tugged on Lang Ze’s beast-hide clothing.

“Cough.”

Lang Ze released him. The ancient tree beastman slid down the wall, coughing laboriously, his gaze flickering between them.

“My father…” Qi Bai raised the smaller bone knife. “This belongs to my father. He died unexpectedly over ten years ago. And ever since, this knife has remained with me.”

The ancient tree beastman’s eyes widened. “Do you know what it means, that your father once held this bone knife?”

Qi Bai replied calmly, “It means he very likely was a divine envoy.”

He paused. The beastman shook his head in disbelief. “Your father was a divine envoy—and now you stand against the temple?”

Qi Bai: “Even if my father was a divine envoy, that doesn’t mean everything he did was right. I still don’t know how he died. But one thing I’m sure of: his death is inseparable from the temple.”

After Qi Bai’s words fell, the ancient tree beastman fell silent again. Qi Bai didn’t rush—he just waited quietly.

After an unknown time, the ancient tree beastman slowly stood up and walked over to the corner of the treehouse.

“You’re not wrong. I do live in this forest for the gūjīn,” he said, looking at Lang Ze. Emotion flickered in his voice, a hint of relief. “But not to hoard it—for I do not want it to fall into the hands of the City of Ten Thousand Bones.”

With that, he lifted a protruding floorboard.

The three of them gasped. Beneath it lay not emptiness—but a hollow filled with gūjīn.

He had been intercepting shipments, sabotaging the City of Ten Thousand Bones' supply of gūjīn. That was why he hid in the Mist Forest.

Although the City of Ten Thousand Bones had been mining in the Mana Mountains for over a decade, actual gūjīn production was much lower than Qi Bai and Lang Ze had assumed. Yet the amount of gūjīn hidden here was roughly a year or two’s worth of their output.

Qi Bai said, “What you're doing may slow them down—but as long as the City of Ten Thousand Bones still exists, they won’t stop.”

The ancient tree beastman shook his head. “You’re thinking too simply.”

He bent down, scooped some gūjīn into a beast-hide pouch—and brought out a xuanniao bone knife, incomplete and visibly damaged at the blade.

He gently wiped the dust from it and spoke: “Once, the temple sent nine divine envoys on a so-called ‘Divine Blood Revival’ mission. To ensure they could stay connected—and to verify their bonds—the Forge Divine Envoy, Ye, crafted each of them a xuanniao bone knife as a token. If one is seen, even if the envoy isn’t present, the others should come to aid.”

He continued, “The nine envoys left in three directions, searching among the tribes for divine blood. Any tribe they confirmed with that blood… was ruthlessly purged.”

The ancient tree beastman closed his eyes. “They were told before leaving that only at the most desperate, life‐or‐death moment would the divine blood awaken within beastmen.”

Qi Bai could hardly believe it. “They dared to value their mission over countless beastmen’s lives?”

The beastman laughed bitterly. “To them, ordinary lives meant nothing. Bloodshed, sacrifice—these were routine as long as they believed in their oath to fulfill the mission. Other lives meant nothing.”

“But eventually people realized something was wrong. The tribes were sparse, and those with divine blood even fewer. Soon, countless tribes were annihilated—many without any proof of divine blood.”

“There were those among the nine that saw through it. But they couldn’t defy the temple. They chose to flee or hide as wandering beastmen.”

Lang Ze asked coldly, “Including the Forge Envoy, Ye?”

The beastman paused. “Seems you’ve met members of the Chihu Tribe.”

Qi Bai looked at the broken bone knife. “The Forge Envoy knew too much... escape wouldn’t have been easy.”

He spoke of the strength of the xuanniao's bones—indestructible unless opposed by bone tools of equal material.

“Exactly,” the beastman said nostalgically. “We shared a peaceful decade together. But they still came. That day, the sky was a raging red. I was the only one who escaped.”

The beastman glanced at Qi Bai. “Let me guess—you’re the cub of Ling Feng Envoy, Yu? Among the nine, only the Ling Bao clan has the white-haired bloodline. They say the envoy Yu himself had white hair.”

So that’s my father’s name, Qi Bai mused—Ling Yu.

The beastman continued: “That attack came from the E Gu, Liejiao, and Lie Shi tribes. Perhaps they turned to mining gold-driven beastmen to recreate divine blood. Ridiculous. These gold‑eating beastmen aren't divine blood—they're just deranged monsters.”

Lang Ze: “Who’s behind this scheme? Those envoys couldn’t do this alone.”

The beastman shook his head. “I don’t know. Perhaps only the current Cangshen Si knows. That the E Gu, Sword Tiger, Lie Shi, and Fierce Bear factions obeyed the old Cangshen Si suggests they had support.”

Over fifty years ago, these groups attacked the Jufeng and Diao Lan tribes. The temple envoys were still youth then—someone else must’ve orchestrated it.

Regardless, the ancient tree beastman has filled the missing pieces—they finally had a clear picture.

Qi Bai turned to him. “Since the City of Ten Thousand Bones is our common enemy, you should join us—to avenge your father and your people.”

Unexpectedly, the beastman’s reply was firm and tinged with anger: “I will stop their gold‑eating beastmen. But I won’t participate in temple matters.”

Qi Bai frowned. “Just stopping them from mining gold means little. We must destroy the City of Ten Thousand Bones and expose those pulling the strings.”

The beastman stood, crafting a wooden knife at a tree-stump table. Clearly, he didn't want any more talk.

Lang Ze said quietly, “Come—our group doesn’t need a coward who only hides.”

The three exited the treehouse. The ancient tree beastman froze, staring at the broken bone knife. He didn’t even notice when the wooden knife pierced his palm.

Returning to the territory, silent except for leaves rustling underfoot, Lang Ze broke the quiet: “Do you want to look for your people?”

Qi Bai thought a long while before answering: “If given the chance, I’d like to meet my father’s people. But I don’t feel the need to be recognized as their kin.”

Though clues pointed to the E Gu and the hidden Cangshen Si behind the Yin Yue tribe’s fall, it was unclear whether the Ling Bao clan shared his father’s stance. Qi Bai preferred to keep it that way. His goals, for Lang Ze’s sake and their future city, didn’t involve the divine‑blood resurrection scheme.