Hearing Hu Jiao Jiao’s words, the beastmen all nodded, showing no objections.

Seeing their agreement, Hu Jiao Jiao didn’t hold back either. She estimated the material quantities, then said, “Chief, I’ll need 300 large blue stones, 300 small ones, and fifty buckets of rough stone and clay.”

All the materials, except for the blue stones, were to be carried back in large stone buckets. Unlike the small buckets she used to carry fish, these were massive—almost as tall as a person, with a single bucket holding hundreds of pounds. While that weight would be unmanageable for a human, it was an easy lift for a male beastman who could carry it with both hands and still sprint through the forest.

“No problem,” the chief replied, nodding in agreement.

Hu Jiao Jiao didn’t need to worry about finding helpers—the chief would select the best of them, those strong enough to carry the heavy materials and who could later help construct more stone houses throughout the tribe.

After a brief discussion, Hu Jiao Jiao finalized the plan. The beastmen would spend five days gathering materials, and five days later, the construction would begin.

With the strength and skill of the beastmen, she estimated the stone house would be complete within a month, just in time to move into a warm home for winter. They would even have enough time to start building additional stone houses to shelter the tribe’s females during the cold months. The males, who could withstand the cold better, could manage in the caves for now and continue building more stone houses in the spring.

Before leaving, she asked the beastmen to help carry the materials outside the courtyard, as it was too cluttered for daily life.

The beastmen, slightly embarrassed for not having thought of it themselves, quickly got to work, carrying the heavy materials out to clear the courtyard. When they finished, the yard felt clean and open again.

Hu Jiao Jiao thought of Long Mo and was just about to look for him when she saw a tall, solitary figure return, silhouetted against the setting sun, with a faint loneliness to his shadow.

To her surprise, Long Mo was carrying the stone bucket, and this time, unlike before, the fish inside were already cleaned—scaled, gutted, and washed spotless.

Hu Jiao Jiao was taken aback. Had he gone back to the river to prepare the fish?

She jogged over, stopping beside him, their shadows falling together, her smaller one overlapping with his.

Looking straight ahead, she could only see Long Mo’s chest, sun-tanned and glistening with the sweat. She quickly looked away, feeling her cheeks flush. Focusing on her toes, she said softly, “Long Mo, thank you for finding all the materials for the stone house.”

Long Mo looked down at her, this delicate female standing like a bright flower beside him. Something about her made him feel as though he needed to protect her. For a moment, he found himself speechless.

“Let me take the fish. You’ve been working hard these past few days; go rest,” she said, reaching to take the bucket from him.

Thinking about how Long Mo had quietly worked to gather the materials, Hu Jiao Jiao felt a twinge of guilt. She had always thought of him as a heartless villain, never imagining that he, too, was dedicated to helping this family. Though his words could be cutting, he never shied away from his responsibilities, providing everything the family needed.

After all, she had come into this life only halfway, knowing so little. What right did she have to be angry with him?

But before she could reach the bucket, Long Mo moved it out of her grasp.

Her shoulders slumped, thinking he still held her in contempt. She started to turn away when his low, rumbling voice broke the silence.

“You don’t need to do this,” he said, stopping her in her tracks.

Still puzzled, she stayed silent, and he continued, “Also… the clothes you made were very well done. I shouldn’t have said those things. I apologize.”

The rich, deep tone of his voice, now tinged with regret, held her frozen in place.

Wait—had she heard him correctly?

The villain was apologizing to her?

“When I saw Ying Yuan wearing similar clothes, I thought you’d made them for him,” he explained. “That’s why I said what I did. But if you’re still angry, I’ll… I’ll leave the tribe if that’s what you want.”

Hu Jiao Jiao whipped her head up. “No, no, you don’t have to leave!”

She had worked hard to bring Long Mo back home; letting him leave again would undo everything!

Only then did she notice his intense gaze fixed on her. She quickly looked away, cheeks warm. “I’m not angry anymore. You can stay with us. Besides… we’re building the stone house together. How could we do it without you?”

Hearing her words, Long Mo’s clenched jaw relaxed, the tension in his chest easing. Her last sentence echoed in his mind, and the corners of his mouth curved ever so slightly.

Hu Jiao Jiao turned away, her heart pounding as she watched their shadows stretch across the ground. Why did she suddenly feel like the villain wasn’t angry with her at all?

In fact… was it possible he was… jealous?

No, no! That was impossible! She shook her head to clear it, dismissing the silly thought. Long Mo, the villain, could not be jealous. She was reading too much into this. She’d die of embarrassment if anyone ever caught wind of that thought.

“Oh, wait just a second!” she said, her cheeks pink as she hurriedly left, eager to escape his gaze.

Long Mo tilted his head, watching her retreat with confusion. He carried the fish inside, placing the stone bucket down, when she came rushing back.

He was taken aback when he saw what she held in her hands—the animal-skin clothing she had made for him.

“You… didn’t throw it away?” he asked, surprise evident on his face.

Just moments ago, he had searched everywhere, convinced she’d discarded it.

She smiled softly. “I put a lot of effort into this, so how could I throw it away? Even if you didn’t want it, I would save it for the kids to wear when they’re older.”

She kept her gaze low, cheeks slightly flushed as she held out the clothes, her voice soft as birdsong. “So… if you don’t think it’s ugly anymore, would you take it? Because if you won’t, I won’t make you any more.”

Without a word, Long Mo reached out, gently taking the clothes from her, holding them like something precious and fragile. He nodded, his deep voice unwavering.

“I want it. And I’ll want every one you make in the future.”