"Chief! Something terrible has happened!" A man wearing a gray leather skirt around his waist and a brownish-yellow beast-hide vest burst into the cave in a fluster.
Shan Cang, who was in the middle of teaching a cub to speak, turned his head. His face was ashen, the corners of his mouth turned down, and the pressure radiating from him was terrifyingly low.
The newcomer was broad-shouldered and powerfully built, yet he stumbled backward under Shan Cang's glare, swallowing hard.
What… what's gotten into him?
What else could it be? It was all because of tutoring.
As a golden bachelor wolf, Shan Cang had inexplicably experienced the frustration of a 21st-century parent helping their child with homework. It was too hard—really too hard!
Why couldn't the cub learn?
Was it his poor teaching ability, or was the cub actually just stupid?
Liang Ye guiltily shrank his neck. It wasn't that he wasn't trying—he just couldn't learn it! He used to watch people's misfortunes online, and now he'd become the joke himself.
Shan Cang let out a heavy breath, composed himself, and gave the cub's bottom a gentle push. "Take a break."
The drooping little pup's eyes immediately lit up at the prospect of playtime, his small tail spinning like a propeller.
The little one was rather adorable, just a bit dim-witted.
The beastman who had come to deliver the news gazed at the cub with pity as he chased his own tail.
"What's the matter?" Shan Cang led the beastman outside the cave.
The beastman slapped his own forehead—he'd almost forgotten the important matter.
Straightening his posture, he said gravely to Shan Cang, "The Fireseed has gone out."
Shan Cang's brows knitted into a knot, his jaw tightening. "What happened?"
The beastman shook his head, indicating he didn't know the details. "I'd just arrived at the big cave to pick up Tian He when I ran into Bo rushing out in a panic. As soon as she saw me, she told me to find you quickly and tell you the Fireseed had gone out."
"Let's go take a look." Shan Cang's expression turned cold and stern, his lips pressed into a thin line.
The Fireseed going out was no small matter, and it had the misfortune of happening right before the storm season.
Fire not only dispelled the cold but also cooked food. When clan members came down with high fevers, drinking hot meat broth could greatly alleviate their condition. Especially during the storm season and the ice season, fire was absolutely vital to them.
Why did it have to go out now, of all times—just as the storm season was about to arrive? Could it be that the Beast God was punishing their tribe?
Shan Cang's fists clenched suddenly, a hurricane forming in his eyes.
No. There was no Beast God in this world.
"Ow!" A soft, milky cry pulled Shan Cang back from the abyss.
The cub was tiny, his weight as light as a feather. If he hadn't made a sound, Shan Cang might not have noticed him for a while. The little one had somehow wrapped himself tightly around Shan Cang's calf, tilting his head up with bright, glistening almond-shaped eyes, his tail wagging with pure joy.
Yeye brand leg attachment—you deserve one.
Shan Cang couldn't decipher the meaning in Liang Ye's eyes. He grabbed the cub by the scruff of his neck and peeled him off.
The moment all four paws touched the ground, the little one immediately stuck himself back on.
Sticking out his tongue and acting cute: Take Ye along! Ye wants to go!
Faced with the cub's adorable assault, Shan Cang helplessly pressed his forehead, then bent down and scooped up the fluffy, soft little white bun. "Don't run off later," he warned.
"Ow!" The cub agreed without hesitation, puffing out his chest proudly.
A faint smile unconsciously softened Shan Cang's eyes. Qing, who had witnessed the entire scene, was dumbfounded. As one of the main members of the hunting team, he considered himself fairly familiar with the chief. When had the chief ever been this gentle with anyone? Even the high and mighty Witch Doctor had never gotten a good expression from the chief.
And among the cubs, Qing had never seen the chief smile at any of the others.
Come to think of it, if the chief smiled at those cubs, they'd probably be scared into crying.
"Chief, tell me in secret—is he really not your own cub?" Qing sneaked closer, leaning in to whisper.
He was too curious; it felt like tens of thousands of ants were crawling through his heart.
Shan Cang narrowed his eyes and gazed at him deeply. "You can come to the sparring grounds later."
Qing's body snapped taut, standing as straight as a javelin. "C-Can I not go? Chief, I can't beat you."
He didn't want to be on the receiving end of a one-sided beating.
Shan Cang cruelly dropped two words: "No."
"Ow-whoo—" Qing wailed in utter despair, letting out a miserable howl.
The two beastmen and one cub arrived at the big cave. Most of the clan members had already gathered, and the air was thick with a low, sorrowful mood.
"The storm season is almost here. What are we going to do without the Fireseed?"
"What if someone gets sick? Without the Fireseed, we can't cook hot soup. Are we just supposed to endure and wait to die?"
Fear, anxiety, and pain spread endlessly, like a virus rapidly infecting and multiplying.
They weren't naturally catastrophic thinkers—they had simply witnessed too much cruel reality. Every concern had its roots in experience. The Wolf Moon Tribe had only just managed to grow to a little over thirty people, and they didn't want to lose another clan member.
"The chief! The chief is here!"
Everyone turned in unison toward the cave entrance, their gazes eager and fervent, as if Shan Cang were their sun—as long as he was there, darkness would never fall.
Liang Ye, sitting in Shan Cang's arms, felt the weight of those burning stares. His scalp tingled, and he sat as if on pins and needles, nearly bristling.
No wonder he could never be the boss—those pairs of eyes carried trust, but also pressure.
"Shan Cang, you're here." The Witch Doctor wasn't dressed up as elaborately as last time, but still wore a jingling assortment of ornaments. His chin had grown sharper; clearly, Shan Cang's punishment last time had hit him hard.
"What's going on?" Shan Cang ignored his pleasantries and cut straight to the point.
The Witch Doctor pressed his lips together, a flicker of humiliation passing through his eyes. He lifted his eyelids to answer, only to find himself locking eyes with the little white ball of fluff nestled in the man's arms.
The mochi-like creature blinked its eyes innocently and naively, showing not the slightest sign of being a tattletale.
The Witch Doctor stayed silent for a moment, and the chief's face visibly darkened. Cai quickly jumped in to explain: "Apologies, Chief. The Witch Doctor has been running himself ragged tending to Tong's wounds—he's exhausted, not intentionally ignoring your question."
"Yes, I just finished praying to the Beast God, and I'm a bit weary." The Witch Doctor let fatigue show on his face, his body swaying as if about to collapse. Cai caught him with a quick hand and fussed over him with concern.
The Witch Doctor waved a hand lightly, forcing a smile. "It's fine. Though communicating with the Beast God drains my energy, it's nothing compared to what I'd sacrifice for the tribe."
"You truly are the kindest, most benevolent Witch Doctor in the Beast World. The Beast God will surely bless you with the healthiest, strongest cubs."
The tribespeople were deeply moved by the Witch Doctor's words, showering him with the most sincere praise and blessings.
They were this close to prostrating themselves before him in worship.
A familiar scene, stirring Liang Ye's distant memories.
He'd been a left-behind child, raised by his grandparents in the countryside. Unlike other left-behind kids, no one in the village dared bully Liang Ye when he was young.
The smaller and more remote the place, the more it ran on personal connections and social hierarchy. Liang Ye's grandfather was the village's only barefoot doctor, while his grandmother was a renowned shamaness far and wide. The pairing of these two had once baffled Liang Ye—didn't they ever fight over their conflicting beliefs?
In truth, Liang Ye had never once seen his grandparents argue. They loved each other deeply. So when his grandfather died from an accidental fall, his grandmother's health deteriorated rapidly, and she followed the next year.
When Liang Ye was a child, people often came to his door carrying big red roosters to ask his grandmother to perform rituals. Back then, knowing nothing, his eyes were filled only with longing for braised chicken. He'd dutifully wait outside the ancestral hall where she performed her rites, watching those people kowtow to her three times and bow nine times, tears and snot streaming down their faces.
Later, the state cracked down hard on feudal superstition. Liang Ye grew up, his grandmother grew too old to perform, and the scent of incense faded from his dreams.
Now, in another life, how had he run into a shamaness again?
Lost in his own world, Liang Ye missed the full story of what had happened.
The Fireseed hadn't gone out without cause—it was human error. Though not intentional: two cubs had gotten into a fight, and in the heat of it, accidentally knocked over the Fireseed. Bo had been busy tending to other cubs at the time, and Zhu had gone out to find wood. The children were panicked and helpless, with no other adults in the big cave. They could only watch as the sparks slowly died, wailing in tears.
"It's all my fault. Guarding the Fireseed was my duty—why did I leave without permission!?" Bo raised a withered hand to wipe away the tears streaming down her face.
"Chief, I willingly accept punishment. Punish me." Bo's weathered, gentle eyes looked resolutely at Shan Cang.
"No! Chief, as an elder beastman of the tribe, my responsibility is even greater. Guarding the Fireseed was a job for Bo and me together. She had to look after several cubs, and I knew that, yet I still ran off to find wood. My sin is even heavier—you should punish me." Zhu hobbled out of the crowd leaning on his stick, pounding his chest in anguish.
The atmosphere grew suffocatingly heavy. Someone tried to open their mouth to plead for them, but the moment their eyes met Shan Cang's gray-blue gaze, their courage receded like the tide, and they bit their lower lip, throat bobbing.
"Let's solve the Fireseed problem first. We'll discuss the rest later." Shan Cang knew what to prioritize, while also taking in the tribespeople's attitudes.
The crowd felt as if pardoned, and a flurry of discussion broke out.
The Witch Doctor spoke first. "We don't know when or where the Beast God will next send down Heavenly Fire. The storm season is approaching—we can't afford to wait."
"Right, right, the Witch Doctor makes a good point."
The successive murmurs of agreement made the Witch Doctor lift his chin, the corners of his mouth curling up. Shan Cang gave him a look to continue, and the Witch Doctor suppressed the thrill of vindication, calmly proposing his solution while waiting for the chief to see him in a new light.
"We can borrow fire from a neighboring tribe."
"Yes! Why didn't I think of that? As expected of the Witch Doctor—so clever."
"Does this mean we won't lose any tribespeople? Wonderful!"
"Witch Doctor! Witch Doctor! Witch Doctor!"
The stifling, gloomy atmosphere in the big cave dissipated like smoke, replaced by fervent cheers.
The Witch Doctor smirked smugly, sneaking a sidelong glance at Shan Cang's reaction.
Was he captivated by him? Falling helplessly in love? Eager to have cubs with him?
But what he met was a pair of calm, composed eyes, long lashes slightly lowered, as if weighing the feasibility of his words. There was no infatuation—not even appreciation or praise!
A basin of ice-cold water poured down from above, and the Witch Doctor's hot blood suddenly ran cold. The tribe's revelry and clamor faded completely away. He felt as if he had fallen into a bottomless black hole, cut off from everything in the world.
The Witch Doctor shivered. The instant his senses returned, he found himself face to face with a silly little puppy face. He contemptuously looked away, but his neck suddenly stiffened.
He thought he saw that cub smile—a harmless, innocent smile—yet it inexplicably sent a chill down his spine, and a shadow of gloom silently crept over his heart.
Shan Cang had just considered the surrounding tribes. Counting from the nearest, they were the Hyena Tribe, the Golden Mane Tribe, and the Golden Eagle Tribe. Any farther, and they might not make it back before the storm season arrived.
In truth, the other tribes weren't too far away. For Beastmen traveling at full speed, a round trip would only take three or four days.
The key issue was that the Fireseed wasn't like trading food or animal hides—something you could just sling over your back and run with. If the wind blew a little too hard, or if it met rain, it would easily be extinguished. The Fireseed had to be protected with utmost care.
That being the case, their speed would inevitably be limited.
Shan Cang laid out all his concerns, and the lively atmosphere plummeted back to freezing point.
"The Hyena Tribe is especially petty. We fought several battles with them last hunting season. There's no way they'd lend us their Fireseed." Qing's rear end had nearly been torn off last time, and the memory was fresh. He couldn't say anything good about the Hyena Tribe.
"The Golden Mane Tribe's chief is combative, but we don't have any deep grudges with them. We should be able to negotiate." Zhu pondered for a moment before offering his opinion.
As for the Golden Eagle Tribe, they didn't even consider them. A father's murder was an irreconcilable blood feud.
Shan Cang nodded. This was indeed the best option available. "I'll go talk to Lie Feng."
"He, you're coming with me."
"Yes." He stepped out from the crowd.
Liang Ye's eyes widened with curiosity, his round apricot eyes staring straight at the man. This person looked somewhat similar to Shan Cang—like a budget version.
It definitely wasn't Liang Ye putting one down to praise the other. Objectively speaking, He wasn't bad-looking: broad shoulders, narrow waist, chiseled features—a proper handsome man. Unfortunately, Shan Cang's features, physique, and bearing were simply too superior. He was practically the goddess Nuwa's final masterpiece.
Yeye was handed over to Bo's arms, his beady eyes darting back and forth between Shan Cang and He. Bo's listless state eased slightly as he explained, "Shan Cang's father and He's father are from the same pair of parents."
So He was Shan Cang's cousin. Liang Ye suddenly understood.
That being the case, Shan Cang's mother was most likely a stunning beauty.
"Shan Cang, I'll wait for your safe return." The Witch Doctor was reluctant to part, wishing he could escort him ten li down the road.
Shan Cang transformed into a Black Wolf before he even finished speaking, vanishing like lightning without a trace.
The Witch Doctor's mouth opened and closed, his face flushed red, yet he still had to maintain his composure and elegance as if nothing had happened.
He was even more nonchalant, asking bluntly, "Do you have something you want to say to me?"
The Witch Doctor's face changed in an instant. He turned and walked away without a trace of lingering attachment.
He rubbed his nose, shifted into beast form, and raced at full speed to catch up with the chief who had gone on ahead.
Wow! Wow!
Yeye's gossip radar was beeping frantically, his enthusiasm for drama reaching unprecedented heights.
What a spectacular show.
Liang Ye had already come up with a title for them—"The Man Behind the Wicked Stepmother."
The little creamy-white ball was beside himself with glee, lying in the old Demi-Beastman's arms with all four little paws kicking in the air, laughing like a fool.
"Oh dear, the chief's cub doesn't seem too bright."
"Shh, if the chief hears that, watch out—he'll have your mate dragged to the dueling ground."
The Demi-Beastman hastily covered his mouth at that, glancing around before lowering his voice to ask, "Has the chief already gone after your mate?"
That person's expression turned mournful—clearly one of the victims.
"Pfft. If this one weren't the chief's own cub, I'd eat Serrated Grass."
"You'd dare eat Serrated Grass? Careful—it'll cut your mouth up so bad you can't eat meat."
Liang Ye pricked up his little ears. Serrated Grass?
Judging by the name, it didn't sound edible.
After eating fruit for several days straight, Liang Ye was having trouble with his bowel movements and constantly needed to pee. He didn't dare eat much meat—one bout of diarrhea was enough to remember for a lifetime.
If only he could get some vegetables. But Shan Cang was a pure carnivore who couldn't be happy without meat. Forget side dishes—even scallions never appeared in his meals.
Which meant Liang Ye, living with him, never saw a single green leaf either.
While Liang Ye was still fretting over vegetables, Shan Cang and his companion passed by the Hyena Tribe's territory. They carefully detoured around it. Setting foot on another tribe's land without permission would be seen as provocation—even if you were bitten to death, there'd be no one to appeal to for justice.
Even as their tribe's most powerful warriors, they wouldn't come out ahead against a pack of hyenas.
Dusk settled in, dark clouds obscured the stars and moon, and the vast grassland lay in desolation. The horn of death sounded silently.
Night meant danger. Unless absolutely necessary, very few creatures ventured out after sunset.
Unless—they themselves were the danger.
Two black wolves moved like phantoms hidden in the darkness, four green lanterns like drifting will-o'-the-wisps, flickering on and off, appearing and disappearing.
The beasts lurking in the grass suddenly realized the truth: the prey they thought they were hunting were actually the hunters. Their roles reversed, their breath stopped, and they froze in place, playing dead.
"ROAR—"
Unfortunately, luck was a thing that could only be relied upon by luck.
Throats were pierced by sharp fangs, and massive bodies crashed to the ground.
Shan Cang and He filled their stomachs before continuing on their way. The vultures perched on the withered tree branches flew down to happily scavenge the leftovers.
As dawn broke, the first rays of morning light spilled across the land. The two black wolves who had run through the night remained full of vigor as they finally arrived at the border of the Golden Mane Tribe.
"Awooo—" He let out a long, drawn-out wolf howl from deep in his throat.
In ordinary times, the Golden Mane tribesmen patrolling nearby would have come to investigate by now, but today there wasn't even a ghost in sight.
The two black wolves exchanged glances, both struck by an ominous premonition.
He howled again. Only on the third attempt did a lion come running over in a huff. "What are you howling for? Showing off your loud voice?"
He couldn't be bothered to quibble with him and got straight to the point. "Wolf Moon Tribe. We're looking for your chief. Tell him to come over."
"Shoo, shoo, shoo. You think our chief is someone you can just meet whenever you want? We don't have time for you." The lion rolled his eyes at them, flicked his tail, and turned to leave.
"Tell Lie Feng that Shan Cang is waiting here." A wisp of oppressive pressure leaked from Shan Cang, and the arrogant lion's four legs trembled all at once.
"Sh-Shan Cang!"
The chief of the Wolf Moon Tribe—the beastman their chief talked about wanting to fight every single day.
The lion didn't dare look Shan Cang in the eye. Stumbling unevenly, he ran back toward the tribe. "Chief! Chief! Shan Cang has come to attack us!"
He, who had personally witnessed the lion fabricate rumors on the spot, scraped the ground with his claws. "Should I go drag him back and beat him up?"
Shan Cang was unconcerned. "No need."
A moment later, a lion with disheveled mane hair and a massive, powerful build came charging over in a cloud of dust, skidding to a stop before Shan Cang.
"You're finally willing to fight me!"
Before Shan Cang could respond, Lie Feng shook his head regretfully. "Our tribe's cubs have gone missing. The whole tribe is searching. No time to fight you. Some other day."
A stone dropped into the calm lake of his heart, sinking ceaselessly. A missing cub was no trivial matter—Shan Cang truly shouldn't disturb them at a time like this. But the Fireseed was of utmost importance to the Wolf Moon Tribe; he couldn't return empty-handed.
"I didn't come to fight you." Shan Cang didn't beat around the bush with Lie Feng and spoke plainly. "I came to borrow your Fireseed."
Upon hearing that Shan Cang hadn't come to fight him, Lie Feng immediately lost interest. "Oh. I'm in a hurry to find the cubs. No time to entertain you. You should go."
He was direct, and Lie Feng was no less so.
"We'll trade food for it." Shan Cang put forward his bargaining chip.
Lie Feng gave him a lukewarm glance. "And the food?"
The two black wolves had traveled light and brought no food at all. Shan Cang's confidence was unshaken despite his lack of grounds. "We'll give it to you after the storm season."
Lie Feng wondered if his ears were playing tricks on him. There was no concept of borrowing or credit among beastmen—their simple values were built on barter. Shan Cang's words were no different from outright robbery.
"Don't think you can pick a fight just because we're tied up looking for our cubs!"
The Golden Mane chief was clearly showing signs of anger. Shan Cang's expression turned grave. "I swear it in the name of the Beast God."
Hearing this, Lie Feng finally regarded him seriously. After a long pause, he spoke in a low voice. "I believe you."
He, who had already given up hope, suddenly shot a burning gaze at the Golden Mane Tribe's chief.
The Golden Mane Tribe had agreed to lend them the Fireseed?
Lie Feng turned and led the way. "Follow me."
The Golden Mane Tribe didn't live in caves like the Wolf Moon Tribe. They were accustomed to making their homes in beast-hide tents. Across the boundless grassland, tent after tent sprouted from the earth, proclaiming the prosperity of the Golden Mane Tribe.
The tents stood empty—the entire tribe had turned out to search for the cubs, leaving only some elderly beastmen and young pups behind.
"Chief." An elder with hair white as snow rose to his feet.
Lie Feng gestured for him to sit back down and introduced him to Shan Cang and He. "He's our tribe's Witch Doctor, Chao."
When borrowing a Fireseed from another tribe, one ought to consult the tribe's Witch Doctor.
The Witch Doctor didn't understand why the chief had brought two beastmen from other tribes here at a time like this, but the chief quickly answered his confusion. "They've come to borrow the Fireseed."
Understanding dawned on the Witch Doctor. Then a dark haze clouded his aged eyes, and he let out a faint sigh. "Children, you've come too late."
"The Beast God has delivered his punishment. Our tribe's Fireseed went out long ago."