Chapter 4

The white-furred creature glanced weakly at him before turning away and leaving.

Zhuo Yan stood alone in the open space, feeling the cool breeze against his skin. He remained there for over ten seconds, still processing what had just happened. By the time he gathered his thoughts and looked in the direction the white-furred creature had gone, it was already nearly out of sight.

The white fur creature had really walked away.

Just a moment ago, the look it had given him didn’t seem filled with murderous intent; rather, it felt like a hollow, numb gaze. Now that he had calmed down, Zhuo Yan reflected on the scene from earlier—

He couldn’t blame himself for overreacting.

It had indeed been terrifying.

In the past, whenever he visited the zoo and bought tickets to the big cat exhibit, he always stayed in the vehicle, separated by iron bars. Even when a tiger approached the car, he felt a wave of fear wash over him. So, it was understandable that he was scared by the mere three-meter distance from the white-furred creature; at that range, its furry paw could easily crush him.

“Times have changed, Zhuo Yan. You are now half a beastman; you are a half-beast, an sub-beastman. The blood of beasts flows within you. Don’t be cowardly; be brave, be brave.”

Zhuo Yan encouraged himself, talking to himself as he hurriedly finished packing up the mud beans before running back to his cave. He even sang a boisterous song to bolster his courage as a half-beastman, his off-key voice echoing throughout the cavern.

His cave was quite spacious, a testament to the hard work put in by his parents, Little Zhuo Yan. The entrance was fairly large, a semicircular opening with a radius of about two meters, making it convenient for entering and exiting with prey. However, he now realized that a door was needed.

Inside, the cave spanned over thirty square meters and stood nearly four meters high, providing a comfortable atmosphere that wasn’t too oppressive.

At the back of the cave, there was a stone bed covered with a few furs. In the center of the cave was a fire pit used for cooking, featuring a large stone pot and a flat stone slab. Other areas were mostly empty, intended for food storage.

Thanks to years of use, the cave was fairly dry and not damp at all.

During the past ten days, Zhuo Yan had joined a small team. At first, he was unsure of what to do, feeling dazed for a few days as he simply followed whatever the others did, helping to move mud beans and firewood back to their homes. However—

“It’s still not enough,” Zhuo Yan sighed as he glanced at the firewood stacked against the wall.

The longer Zhuo Yan stayed in the tribe and listened to his companions describe their experiences, the more he processed the innate fear he had of winter. He realized clearly that the firewood he had collected over the past few days would definitely not be enough to last through the entire winter.

For Qiao and the others, their firewood supply was sufficient because it was used not only for cooking but also for a certain degree of warmth. Each of their families had beastmen members; during the harshest cold, they could transform into their beast forms, which was the best and most effective way to keep warm.

Zhuo Yan, however, could not rely on that. He was alone.

Thus, it was said in the tribe that without a beastman, a sub-beastman would struggle to survive the winter. When Little Zhuo Yan’s mother was still around, she did her best to stockpile mud beans, dudu fruits, and firewood. Even so, as winter dragged on, it felt endless to Little Zhuo Yan. Towards the end, food supplies dwindled, and they often went two or three days without a proper meal. The cold forced mother and son to huddle together at the back of the cave, shivering from the chill.

In that moment, Zhuo Yan struck a firestone to ignite a flame, and the flickering firelight drove away some of the darkness, also alleviating his fear to a certain extent.

He placed the mud beans at the edge of the fire to roast while taking a moment to rest.

Really, really, really tired.

Zhuo Yan had woken up early that morning and had worked hard all morning long. He took less than an hour to rest at noon and had been estimating his efforts based on how he felt. He kept working until the afternoon, and now his arms were sore, his shoulders had imprints from carrying heavy loads, and he felt grimy and filthy all over.

Yet, Zhuo Yan didn’t dare to step out of the cave to wash up as he gazed at the empty cave entrance.

“Before winter arrives, I need to make a sturdy door. And tomorrow morning, I should take a proper bath,” he thought to himself.

At that moment, he didn’t want to go anywhere at all.

The flames consumed the last piece of firewood, and the light in the cave gradually dimmed. Zhuo Yan rummaged through the mud beans, blew on them to cool them down, split them in half, and began eating the clean food inside.

If it weren’t for Sister Qiao giving him a piece of meat today, he would have gone ten whole days without eating any meat.

For someone like Zhuo Yan, who couldn’t live without meat, the thought of it was mouthwatering.

He gnawed on the mud beans as if they were meat, his tongue scalded from the heat as he rolled it around, blowing gently on the food with a huff and puff, chuckling at himself for being so silly. He reassured himself, saying, “It’s nothing. I’ll definitely have meat to eat sooner or later.”

After finishing the mud beans in a haphazard manner, Zhuo Yan walked over to his stone bed, wrapped himself in animal hides, and sank into a deep sleep.

That night, Zhuo Yan dreamt again. This dream was different from the previous ones. In the past few days, whenever he closed his eyes, he had been dreaming of modern life, as if he blinked and suddenly found himself back there, or running through the orc world as if it were just a dream. But tonight was different.

In his dream, he became that white-haired cub, watching carefree little wild boar piglets drinking water by the riverbank.

Roasting wild boar, roasting wild boar—the fragrant aroma of the piglets made his mouth water. The meat must be tender and juicy, perfectly roasted to a golden brown…

Zhuo Yan swallowed hard, feeling his throat tighten. He was an orc now, slowly moving closer, and with a sudden pounce, he tackled a wild boar piglet. Amid the flashes of lightning and rumblings of thunder, he recalled some experience. He knew that out of desperation and hunger, he couldn’t just bite blindly; he needed a swift and decisive kill.

With that thought in mind, he bared his teeth and sank them into the piglet’s neck.

His companions, Qiao and the others, cheered him on, exclaiming, “Zhuo Yan, you’re amazing! How did you catch that wild boar piglet? Just like that!”

He treated his little friends to a feast of roasted meat.

“Hahaha, it’s so fragrant and delicious!”

Zhuo Yan woke up from his dream, chuckling to himself. He wiped his mouth and felt the drool—it was real! He exclaimed, “In my dream, the roasted meat was fragrant, golden, and crispy, with the perfect balance of fat and lean meat. The sunlight glimmering on the roasted meat must have made it taste incredible!”

It was impossible not to drool.

Waking up, Zhuo Yan felt a lingering desire for the dream. He had never tasted wild boar meat before, and just as the meat in his dream was ready, he abruptly woke up. “Damn it!” he exclaimed, pounding the bed. “Ouch, ouch, ouch.”

Zhuo Yan grinned, amused by his own antics.

After savoring the details of his dream for a few minutes while lying on the stone bed, he finally got up. There would be no more sleep for him today; he planned to take a bath, tidy up his cave, and roast a few mud beans for breakfast.

Zhuo Yan stoked the fire and buried three mud beans inside. Then, he went to the river to wash up. Using a stone knife, he cut his long hair shorter, carefully checking his reflection in the water to ensure it was evenly trimmed to ear-length. The stone knife wasn’t very effective, and cutting it too short was quite laborious; after holding his arm up for a while, he felt fatigued.

He brushed his teeth with a twig, washed his face, and scrubbed himself down in the river, feeling refreshed as he returned home. He gathered around the campfire to dry himself and warm up.

On the wall, he carved the first stroke of the third character, marking that today was the eleventh day.

“Zhuo Yan isn’t dead, is he?”

“I heard wolves howling here last night.”

“Did the wild boar piglet get taken by wolves? He hasn’t even made it through winter yet.”

“Ah! Zhuo Yan is dead?”

Inside his cave, Zhuo Yan was taken aback. What were his friends discussing down there?

He quickly dashed to the entrance, carrying a woven basket on his back, and shouted down, “Who died?”

“!!!”

“??”

His friends looked completely bewildered.

Zhuo Yan rushed down the slope, asking, “What are you talking about?”

“You’re not dead?” Aman replied, surprised.

Xiao Xian added, “When we were coming here, we heard someone say there were wolf howls near your place last night.”

“Could it be that you encountered the white fur creature?” Aman speculated seriously. “The white fur creature was chased away by its beast father, and it must have gone days without eating. If it gets hungry—”

“No, no, no,” Zhuo Yan quickly denied, feeling the weight of their gazes on him.

“Well, okay, I did encounter the white fur creature last night, but it didn’t hurt me. I was scared and started singing, so the ghostly wails they heard might have been my singing.”

“He sang, and it wasn’t that bad, right?”

The others were half-convinced. Aman interjected, “You can’t seriously be thinking about forming a bond with the white fur creature—”

“Ah, ah, ah!” one person exclaimed, going a little wild.

Aman immediately stopped talking, and the others looked at Zhuo Yan with confusion, falling into a tense silence.

Zhuo Yan thought to himself: Great, I’ve effectively held these four in suspense for half a minute.

“First of all, I have no intention of forming a partnership with the white fur creature. He didn’t harm me, and I can’t let my words get out. If the tribe finds out, they might chase him away. Winter is coming, and if he gets driven out, he definitely won’t survive.”

“Whether he survives or not has nothing to do with you. Didn’t you just say you weren’t worried about him?” Aman countered, feeling justified in his thoughts.

Zhuo Yan was at a loss for words…

Qiao finally spoke up, “Zhuo Yan, are you feeling sorry for the white fur creature?”

“Qiao, you understand me!” Zhuo Yan nodded vigorously, as they all started to head outside together.

Shitou and Aman didn’t understand the concepts of “pity” or “sympathy” for the white fur creature. It wasn’t that they were incapable of understanding; rather, the reality of this world was harsh and unforgiving. Everyone carried the genes of beasts, where survival of the fittest was the norm, and the weak were preyed upon by the strong. For them, the white fur creature’s failure to evolve meant it was just another beast.

For beastmen and sub-beastmen, their common diet consisted primarily of… beasts.

So, when they thought about it, what was there to feel sorry for?

While the group, including the stubborn Aman, might hold a bit of sympathy for Zhuo Yan, they would never extend that sentiment toward a beast.

“I actually used to play with the white fur creature when I was younger,” Zhuo Yan spoke up. “My mom told me about it; I was still in my juvenile form back then.”

He understood what Qiao was saying and grasped Zhuo Yan’s intentions as well.

“But it’s such a pity.”

Even though Zhuo Yan felt sympathy, he knew there was nothing he could do for a beast that hadn’t evolved.

“That doesn’t mean things that never happened, like how the white fur creature didn’t harm me, but I talked carelessly and caused it harm,” Zhuo Yan stated, not intending to delve further into this topic. He was quite fearful of Aman continuing to argue about this matter, insisting he wanted to bond with the white fur creature.

“Let me share a song about half-beastmen with you all.”

The others were curious, asking, “What’s a half-beastman?” “Is there another half of a beastman?” “What kind of song is this? Are you speaking in riddles again?”

Zhuo Yan cleared his throat, preparing to sing.

“There are no longer any pure white souls; since humanity has fallen into half-beastmen, I begin to use the first person to document everything that happens before my eyes… maintaining the symbol of pure white, then reverting back to human…”

Golden sunlight bathed the riverbank of the leopardman tribe in the morning, as scattered sub-beastmen formed small groups to go foraging. Among them was a young beastman with hair cut to ear length, his bright eyes shining. His small face was illuminated by the sun, giving his skin a golden sheen. The little sub-beastman wore a smile, emitting a melody that was incomprehensible to others.

At that moment, the leopardmen of the tribe didn’t really understand what a song was.

However, hearing the little sub-beastman shout with such energy was quite impressive.

After Zhuo Yan finished singing, he felt that his performance today was vastly better than last night’s—he believed it deserved a perfect score of one hundred. He couldn’t help but ask, “How was that? Not bad, right? I didn’t sing well last night.”

Qiao responded, “It’s the first time I’ve heard it, and it was good.”

Xiao Xian chimed in, “Exactly!”

Even Shitou nodded in agreement.

Only Aman interjected, “You say you don’t like the white fur creature, yet look at you!”

Zhuo Yan was taken aback, “Huh?”

“You sang about pure white something or other, didn’t you? The white fur creature is white!” Aman confidently pointed out, as if he had found undeniable evidence.

Zhuo Yan could only think, “…That’s not true! I really didn’t! Where’s the impartial judge to clarify this?!”

As the group playfully joked and laughed, they crossed the small river, completely unaware that a fluffy white beast was hiding in the grass a few dozen meters away. This was the white fur creature from last night.

The white fur creature had been driven out by its father and, without a den to take shelter in, it had wandered around the outskirts of the tribe but hadn’t ventured deeply into it. The sub-beastmen and beastmen disliked it and were wary of being chased away, leaving it to find a patch of wild grass to huddle in. At that moment, the white fur creature struggled to hold up its front body; it hadn’t eaten in three days. Its belly fur was matted, stained with mud and dark red, and it had been injured the day before. The creature had lost weight, and its once dull eyes now held a faint glimmer as it gazed toward the small sub-beastman team.

…But it was just a beast.

“Qiao, when will winter come back?” Zhuo Yan asked about a serious matter.

Qiao looked up at the sky, “My father said the weather is getting cold quickly; it might be just over ten days.”

“What?” Zhuo Yan exclaimed. He thought the weather was still early autumn and assumed they might have about a month left, not realizing winter was approaching so soon. “Then I need to hurry; I still want to make a door.”

The others turned to Zhuo Yan, asking, “What’s a door?”

“Here he goes again, talking in ways we can’t understand,” one of them remarked, rolling their eyes.

Zhuo Yan said, “A door—it’s something that can be installed at the entrance of the cave to block out the cold and snow. Once I’m finished, I’ll invite you all to come and see.”

“Are you going to move a big rock to block the entrance?” Stone asked.

That was a common practice; during the day, they would remove a large stone—something the beastmen could do easily.

“You don’t have a beastman, though. If you’re moving a rock, we can help, but what will you do if you can’t get out? Are you planning to stay cooped up in the cave all winter? Once it snows, I’m not coming out,” Aman remarked.

Zhuo Yan continued to ponder how to describe the door; it needed to be thick enough to withstand the severe cold and potential dangers outside.

“Don’t even think about the white fur creature. You shouldn’t concern yourself with it.”

Zhuo Yan thought to himself: I’m not thinking about it, I really don’t… but never mind, I’m just exhausted.