“A tangled mess”—that was the only phrase Lei Jin could use to describe the current situation.

Little Grapes waved his tiny fists, whimpered twice, and woke up. Just from the sound, Lei Jin knew it was time for another diaper change. Before he could even get up, Moya had already thrown on his clothes and come in from the outer room. Though a new father for only a short time, Moya had already mastered the task with ease. After cleaning and swaddling the baby, he handed Grapes back to Lei Jin, washed his hands, and then warmed some milk fruit juice—everything done in an orderly manner.

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A clay pot by the charcoal brazier kept water warm all night. Moya mixed it with hot water, added herbs, blew on it to cool it slightly, and then fed the baby spoonful by spoonful.

“I heard you’re heading to the Bear Tribe’s territory this time?” Lei Jin wiped the corners of Grapes’s mouth with a small cloth as the baby drank, the two new parents working seamlessly together.

“En. At this time of year, that’s the only place with enough prey.” Though Moya was speaking to Lei Jin, he kept his eyes on the baby to avoid mistakenly choking him.

Lei Jin pressed for more details and soon grasped the situation. The Bear Tribe was located southwest of the Wolf Tribe, which meant northwest from the Leopard Tribe’s perspective. Nestled at the end of a northern mountain range, the area featured towering peaks and deep valleys. Despite the cold season, the Bear Tribe’s nearby valleys remained warm and humid—unsuitable for living but lush with year-round vegetation, attracting plenty of game.

Though not technically Bear Tribe territory, it was close enough to their doorstep that they wouldn’t let outsiders hunt freely. With food scarce this season, conflicts were inevitable. The Tiger Tribe, being farther away, stayed out of it, leaving the Leopard, Wolf, and Bear Tribes in a three-way standoff. Relations were already strained, and now, with survival at stake, alliances crumbled. The battles were predictably going to be brutal.

The Leopard and Wolf Tribes, at least, shared a grudging camaraderie—both hindered by the Bear Tribe, they avoided direct conflict with each other. But the Bear Tribe was no pushover. Using their knowledge of the terrain, they ambushed and weakened intruders before launching full-scale attacks.

“Strange. Aren’t bears supposed to be stupid? Stupid bears, stupid bears—how come the ones in this world sound so clever?” Lei Jin muttered, impressed by their strategy of wearing down their enemies.

“What stupid bears?” Moya didn’t catch his muttering.

“The Bear Tribe people.” Lei Jin patted Grapes, who, after finishing his milk, was already blinking sleepily. Apart from being frail, the baby was remarkably easy to care for—unfussy, adaptable, and content to eat and sleep. Lei Jin couldn’t be happier with his little piglet.

“They’re not stupid.” Moya placed the sleeping baby back in the crib. “The Leopard and Wolf Tribes haven’t gained any advantage over them in years.”

“Have you been there before? Do you know the terrain well?” Lei Jin wondered if there was a way to avoid walking straight into an ambush.

“I’ve gone every year since adulthood. I remember the layout. But it’s almost dawn—if you have any ideas, we can discuss them with the family tomorrow.” Before Lei Jin could respond, Moya cupped the back of his head and pushed him onto the bed, sealing their lips together in a rough, untamed kiss.

Lei Jin sighed inwardly. No improvement in technique at all. He hooked an arm around Moya’s neck and took control, nibbling at his lower lip before deepening the kiss. What started as simple soon turned heated, both breathing heavily. Moya, unable to resist, slid a knee between Lei Jin’s thighs, his hands slipping under the hem of Lei Jin’s shirt to roam over smooth, warm skin.

“It’s almost dawn… mmph… You still want me to sleep or not?” Lei Jin arched beneath him, deliberately grinding his hips and earning harsher pants from the person currently buried in his chest busy sucking his cherry red nubs.

Feeling the hard and erect thing against his waist and hips becoming increasingly hot, Lei Jin’s long leg rubbed it intentionally or unintentionally, and his chest was bitten hard in retaliation.

Lei Jin gasped out loud.

“Sleep. It’s late.” Moya exhaled sharply, pulling the blanket over them both. He held Lei Jin for a while longer before finally leaving.

Once alone, Lei Jin smirked. Let’s see how long you can hold out. It wasn’t that he was impatient—but compared to their previous clinginess, their current aloofness made him uneasy. Are they plotting something?

But that was a concern for another time. Right now, there were bigger matters at hand.

After lunch, Lei Jin handed the napping Grapes to Mingya and headed to the main room to discuss the upcoming hunt with the family.

“Mingya, what’s wrong? Is your leg hurting more today?” Since returning from Chunji’s, Mingya had seemed downcast. The little guy was terrible at hiding his feelings—everything showed on his face.

“En.” Mingya nodded glumly, following Lei Jin’s train of thought.

Lei Jin ruffled his hair. “You’re Grapes’s little dad now. Look, even Grapes doesn’t cry after his treatments. Hang in there—once it’s warmer, I’m counting on you to carry me and Grapes around.”

“Right, Grapes?” He gently pinched the baby’s soft cheek, eliciting a giggle.

“Take a nap with Grapes. I’ll check on you later. Call me if you need anything.” Though he noticed Mingya’s odd behavior, Lei Jin was preoccupied and didn’t dwell on it. He settled Grapes between Mingya’s paws and left.

Grapes reached for Mingya’s fur, but the young werebeast’s tears fell onto Grapes’s face, which he then carefully licked away.

Earlier, he had overheard Chunji whispering to Lei Jin: “His leg won’t heal fully. This is as good as it gets.”

“Grapes… I don’t want to be your little dad anymore. I don’t want Lei Jin either. My leg won’t get better. I can’t protect him now. Eldest Brother and Second Brother love him so much—they’ll take good care of your papa.”

But letting go was so hard. Lei Jin was the female he found first.

Grapes blinked innocently, unaware of the warmth dripping onto his face.

“The situation is roughly like this.” Xiya wiped the water from his hands. With input from the others, he had sketched the terrain on the table using water.

Lei Jin stroked his chin. The valley ran north-south, wide in the middle and narrow at both ends, with an entrance at each. The southern one was too far to matter, leaving only the northern entrance—conveniently located west of the Bear Tribe’s settlement, with towering mountains to the north. Every year, the Bear Tribe ambushed hunters at the eastern side of the entrance.

“Why not just fly down from above?” Lei Jin asked.

“The valley’s too deep, and the fog’s thick. Without a landing spot, you’d fall to your death,” Xiya explained wryly.

Lei Jin frowned, tapping the table absently. The Bear Tribe had chosen their location well—advantageous in every way.

“If there’s no solution, forget it. We’ve managed all these years,” An Sen said, seeing Lei Jin’s frustration.

“There has to be a way.” But nothing came to mind.

“Don’t rush. You can think it over. Eldest Brother and I will go chop more firewood.” Moya knew Lei Jin was worried, but ideas didn’t come on demand.

“Why? We have plenty.” With so many able-bodied adults in the house, firewood was never in short supply.

“We might be gone a while. Stocking up means you and Papa won’t have to gather any.” Though unspoken, the risks of the hunt were clear—especially this spring expedition.

“Firewood, firewood… Might as well burn down the Bear Tribe,” Lei Jin muttered.

“What did you say?” Xiya didn’t catch it.

Lei Jin’s eyes lit up. “What if we actually burn down the Bear Tribe?”

“No.” Roger emerged from his room, coughing.

An Luo helped him sit and handed him warm water.

“Roger, feeling better?” Lei Jin asked. Though spring had arrived, the cold lingered, and Roger’s low spirits had led to illness.

“Much better. I haven’t even gotten to hold Grapes yet. Where is he?” Regardless of past grievances, Grapes was his grandson—how could he not adore him?

“Mingya’s napping with him.” Lei Jin was relieved Roger accepted the baby. Living under the same roof would’ve been miserable otherwise.

“Once I’m better, let Grapes stay with me a few days. I haven’t even held him yet.” Roger took a sip of water. “Now, what did you just say about burning the Bear Tribe?”

“I think this is a great idea.” Lei Jin grinned. “We skirt around the northern mountains’ shaded slopes, bypass their eastern ambush, and set a fire near their settlement. While they rush back to save their homes, our tribe can enter the valley unhindered.”

“Can you even cross those mountains?” That was the first hurdle.

“They’re high, with year-round snow, but werebeasts should manage,” Moya said cautiously.

That was good enough for Lei Jin.

“Why is your solution to everything to burn it down?” Roger sighed. Even as a father, Lei Jin remained reckless.

“Because it’s fast and effective.” One fire, problem solved.

“And what about the surviving Bear Tribe members? With their homes destroyed and families dead, they’d seek revenge. Our tribe would never know peace.”

“I didn’t mean actually burn it down. Just light fires around their settlement—enough to make it smoky and look like a big fire. The people of the Bear Tribe who are ambushing and guarding the entrance will definitely turn back. Then don’t we have a chance?” Lei Jin was still smiling, not looking serious at all.

Seeing him like this, Roger felt a little relieved. This guy just had this ability. As if being with him, one didn’t need to worry about anything and all difficulties would pass.

“What if the Bear Tribe suffers a great loss this time and gets really angry, and comes to seek revenge on us after they come to their senses?” It’s always better to be cautious in everything.

“There are always unexpected events, Roger, you think too much.” Although he said this, it was better if such things didn’t occur. “How about we get the Wolf Tribe to do it together? First, it can increase the chance of success. Second, if the Bear Tribe wants revenge they would have to think about it, as it would mean going up against our two tribes.”

When good things happen, you can enjoy them alone, but when something bad happens, of course the more people there are, the better.

“Can the Wolf Tribe be so easy to convince?” The relationship between the tribes on the mainland was not very good, An Sen thought.

“The new chief of the Wolf Tribe, Yu Qi, seems to be rather smart. It makes no sense for him not to agree to such a favorable offer. But if he doesn’t agree?” Lei Jin smiled cunningly and asked Xiya lazily, “What was the name of the father of the child Mingya rescued last time?”

“Qinghe.” Fortunately, Xiya’s memory was still good.

“Yes, Qinghe, didn’t I hear that he has a lot of supporters in the Wolf Tribe? Just help him to bring Yu Qi down.” Anyway, Qinghe had repeatedly promised last time that he would repay the favor of saving his little chubby wolf cub in the future.

“This… isn’t this provoking a civil strife in the Wolf Tribe?” Roger looked at him in surprise. Such a big thing, and Lei Jin decided it so easily?

“Not even this is okay?” Lei Jin frowned, “Then there is only one way left, Moya goes to threaten him about how he betrayed Berg.” Not many people had seen Berg at that time, yet Lan Qi was able to find the Leopard Tribe so accurately. It was likely that Yu Qi played a significant role in it. He betrayed Berg and got benefits. No matter what the original reason was, it would be shameful for a tribal leader to do such a thing behind the scenes, right? It wouldn’t be good if this reputation got out. And looking at Berg’s timid behavior in the Wolf Tribe, Yu Qi might have even known everything about the relationship between Berg and Lan Qi. He should have known that once Berg found out that he was the one who betrayed him to Lan Qi, Yu Qi would be in a difficult situation.

Lei Jin analyzed the situation to everyone, and the more they thought about it, the more they felt it was a good idea. However, the people who listened to it were sweating profusely, and they all secretly made up their minds to avoid provoking Lei Jin in the future. He was full of devious ideas, and each of them could make people suffer a lot.

There was only one person who nodded with satisfaction, and that was Roger. He understood that it was precisely because of his love and worry that Lei Jin tried so hard to find a solution. Otherwise, with his lazy nature, he would not bother about irrelevant people. He felt relieved to leave his three children to this man.

How could Xiya and Moya not know this as well? This person was protecting them in his own way. How could anyone bear to let go of such a person?

Naturally, they couldn’t just talk about these things at home, they still had to be discussed in the tribe. There were naturally opposing opinions, but support was in the majority after all, so it was finally decided that Xiya, Moya and two other werebeasts would go to the Wolf Tribe to discuss an alliance.

The days passed one by one in busyness, and Xiya and Moya returned safely from the Wolf Tribe. Yu Qi was indeed a smart person. He agreed without them needing to resort to threats and took the initiative to propose to gather at the Wolf Tribe.

Tomorrow was the day of departure. Xiya and Moya had packed all the things they needed for the journey. Grapes would sleep with Roger tonight. Mingya was still not in good spirits. Lei Jin sat at the head of the bed with a handful of chestnuts in his hand, peeling them and feeding him while trying to make him laugh.

Xiya grabbed Lei Jin’s waist from behind, and caressed him all over in a manner that was full of suggestiveness.

“Stop messing around, go to bed early. Aren’t you leaving tomorrow?” Lei Jin was a little nervous, but he didn’t forget that there were two other people in the room. It was one against three, and he didn’t want to break his waist.

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Xiya smiled mischievously and whispered in his ear, “You probably don’t know that werebeasts never sleep the night before they set out. If they can’t see each other for so many days, they naturally want to spend some time with their females.”

No sleep all night? Lei Jin looked up at Moya who was walking towards him for help, but saw that the latter’s hand was already on the knot of his clothes, and he was about to untie it.

“You didn’t think that we would have easily forgiven you for drugging us and leaving, right?” Xiya picked him up and covered his lips with a chuckle.

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At this point, there was no need to delve deeper into the topic. Lei Jin knew better than to pry too much into Roger’s affairs. Though curiosity gnawed at him, he understood the importance of restraint—especially since this matter clearly wasn’t a pleasant memory for Roger. Turning it into gossip would be too cruel.

The family had always suspected, but suspicion and confirmation were two very different things. Today, Grapes’ appearance had abruptly bridged that gap, catching everyone off guard—especially Roger, the one most directly involved.

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Lei Jin sent Moya and Xiya off to bed and lay down with the baby in his arms. Before leaving, Xiya had even changed Grapes’ diaper. Lei Jin reached down to check—yep, dry and clean. Chunji had prepared these in advance.

Little Grapes, thinking Lei Jin was playing with him, wriggled excitedly, his bright eyes wide open—clearly not ready for sleep.

Lei Jin had no choice but to hold him close, patting and coaxing until the baby finally drifted off. By then, Lei Jin was sweating despite the winter chill.

“Such a little troublemaker,” he murmured, lightly kissing Grapes’ eyelids. “Sleep, sleep, little grape.”

As Xiya had said, the baby was too thin. Only when playing did his cheeks flush pink; otherwise, his complexion remained pale. Born prematurely and having endured so much, it was a miracle he was even alive. How could I have ever thought of abandoning such a precious little thing?

The stillness of night always stirred emotions. Even if Lei Jin tried not to dwell on it, too much had happened in such a short time—losing and regaining the baby, failing to leave, Mingya’s injury—no one could ignore these events, no matter how thick-skinned.

Let it go. It’s all in the past. Stay here and live well. With so many people by my side, and now the baby… what more could I want?

Yet, there was something else—something he couldn’t quite define. Even if he eventually accepted being their mate, he couldn’t spend his days confined to the bed, waiting to bear children.

But Baby… thank goodness you came back. Otherwise, I would never have forgiven myself. Forever unable to enjoy all of this with peace of mind.

“Second Brother…” Mingya whispered, nudging Moya, who was sleeping on the outer edge of the bed. Why did he feel that Lei Jin was crying?

Moya turned over, pressing Mingya’s head against his chest and patting him in silent reassurance.

Lei Jin wasn’t making a sound—just stifling quiet sobs in his throat.

His grief over losing the child had always run deeper than he let on. After all, he had blamed himself for the baby’s death. Now, finally being able to cry meant he could finally release that burden. Moya resisted the urge to gather both Lei Jin and the baby into his arms.

Xiya, lying with his hands behind his head, also caught the faint sounds from the inner room. This time, he’s really staying—willingly, without regrets, right? Unlike his papa, who had hidden years of pain and resentment, perhaps Lei Jin’s choice was genuine.

Maybe Moya and Mingya were right. A brief separation doesn’t mean letting go.

It was just that Xiya had been too afraid of loss. When his papa left, Moya was still young, and Mingya hadn’t even been born. Only Xiya remembered his papa’s resolute departure—the feeling of being abandoned. He never wanted to experience that again.

The next day, Roger still didn’t come out for meals. An Sen and An Luo stayed by his side the whole time. Lei Jin, as usual, took Mingya to Chunji’s place.

When he heard about Grapes’ condition, his heart sank. Fortunately, the old man in black—who called himself Tian Qi and boastfully claimed to have been the most renowned physician on the continent fifty years ago—assured him that since the baby was still young, he could be cured.

Lei Jin inwardly rolled his eyes at the man’s shameless self-praise but outwardly maintained a respectful demeanor, nodding along and even throwing in a few flattering remarks. After all, his baby’s life was in his hands.

Tian Qi instructed Lei Jin to hold the baby steady before inserting needles into Grapes’ head—turning the poor child’s scalp into a pincushion. The baby wailed uncontrollably, and Lei Jin, rarely one to show vulnerability in public, nearly broke down. At one point, he almost snatched Grapes away and stormed off, refusing further treatment.

It was Chunji who snapped him out of it, scolding him into submission. Lei Jin gritted his teeth and held the baby tightly until the session ended. Meanwhile, Mingya, heartbroken at seeing Grapes suffer, cried along with him.

Later, Lei Jin mentioned the naming matter to Chunji. The latter, who had been moping like a condemned criminal, instantly perked up. First, he mocked Lei Jin’s naming sense—”Green eyes, so you call him ‘Grapes’? If his eyes were black, would you name him ‘Pebbles’?”—nearly earning himself a punch.

Then, without hesitation, Chunji suggested his own name: Han Xi, which meant winter dawn.

Lei Jin reluctantly accepted, refusing to admit that Chunji’s choice of name was far more meaningful than his own. But he knew Chunji must have thought of it long ago—otherwise, he wouldn’t have answered so quickly.

Chunji’s personality was much like Lei Jin’s—the more he cared, the more he pretended not to. The fact that he had a name ready proved just how much he adored the baby.

“Baby, little grape, eat a little more,” Chunji coaxed, feeding Grapes milk fruit juice.

Having more people love the baby wasn’t a bad thing. Of course, everyone would adore his child. Lei Jin smirked proudly.

Jia He was the tribe’s carpenter, skilled in crafting doors and stools—even many of the odd furnishings in Chunji’s home were his handiwork. Lei Jin commissioned a crib, knowing his own terrible sleeping habits. Before, it hadn’t mattered, but now, the thought of accidentally crushing the baby terrified him.

Jia He had made cribs before, but never one with wheels. After some animated explanations from Lei Jin and Jia He’s quick comprehension, they managed to attach four solid wooden wheels to the crib’s base.

The only downside? It could only move straight—no turning. Still, Lei Jin was thrilled. He planned to use it as a bed at night and take the baby for walks on sunny days.

Jia He, though a tall and burly werebeast, was meticulous—especially since this was their family’s child. The crib was made of smooth, oiled bamboo slats, with a raised frame and a flat base. He even designed it with two layers—the lower one for storage and ventilation, ensuring the baby wouldn’t overheat in summer.

After thanking Jia He profusely and leaving him a frozen deer as payment, Lei Jin proudly wheeled the crib home, drawing envious stares—especially from the tribe’s females. Many, despite their own worries, couldn’t help but admire the convenience of such a crib and asked Lei Jin how it was made. He answered them all without holding back.

As Grapes’ health gradually improved, Lei Jin’s worries shifted to two other matters.

First, Mingya’s leg. He had asked Chunji repeatedly, but the answer remained the same—it would never fully recover. Lei Jin didn’t care how Mingya looked, but Mingya was barely just an adult. How could he bear Mingya ending up disabled, especially because of him?

Second, the family’s current situation. While food was usually plentiful in this world, with tribes spaced far apart and rarely clashing, exceptions existed. Now, at the start of spring, with snow still unmelted and winter stores nearly depleted, many families were on the brink of starvation.

The werebeasts were preparing for a large hunt, but with most animals still hibernating and migratory herds yet to arrive, food sources were scarce. During such times, even normally peaceful tribes would fight viciously over resources, leading to countless deaths.

If only the tribe had more food reserves… But planting now wouldn’t yield anything in time.

Their own household was still well-stocked, thanks to the family’s five werebeasts’ winter hunts. But this time, aside from Mingya (who was injured), An Sen, Xiya, and the others would all be going.

What if something happens?

Lei Jin had just resolved to stay and build a life with them. He couldn’t afford to lose any of them.

These issues were very headache-inducing. Rubbing his temples as he walked, Lei Jin couldn’t help but grumble. One husband would’ve been enough trouble. Now he had three—triple the worries. Could his life get any harder?

The answer came immediately: Yes.

Because right then, he saw An Bu—the person who gave Roger headaches.

An Bu was leading a group of werebeasts, discussing something in low tones, his demeanor calm and composed. Tall, handsome, and dignified, he was undeniably attractive. But if Roger didn’t like him, even divine charm won’t help.

Spotting Lei Jin, An Bu dismissed the others and approached.

“May I see the child?” His gaze had been fixed on Grapes since they crossed paths.

“Go ahead.” Lei Jin was magnanimous. After all, he was technically the baby’s grandfather.

Grapes was sprawled out in the crib, sleeping with unrestrained abandon—much like his good ol’ dad.

An Bu lifted the baby with practiced ease, smiling faintly. “This is your and Moya’s child?”

As if you don’t know. The tribe wasn’t that big, and as chief, An Bu was surely aware. Still, Lei Jin nodded. “Yes, mine and Moya’s. His eyes are emerald green, so we nicknamed him ‘Grapes.’” That’s what you really wanted to confirm, isn’t it?

Sure enough, An Bu’s face lit up. “Grapes is good. A fine name.”

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Since Lei Jin had introduced grapes as edible, the whole tribe now knew what they were. An Bu naturally knew as well.

But Lei Jin knew it wasn’t about the name—it was about the baby’s eyes. Finally, proof that Roger bore him a son too.

That night, Lei Jin tossed and turned, unable to sleep—worrying about Mingya’s leg, Xiya and Moya’s upcoming hunt, and the future ahead.

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The last trace of a smile finally faded from Lei Jin’s lips. His dark eyes, devoid of emotion, fixed on Chunji for a long moment, as if making a final confirmation.

Chunji thought he still didn’t believe him and was about to explain further when Lei Jin silently stretched out his arms. Clutching the child tighter for a brief second, Chunji ultimately handed the baby over without a word—into the embrace where he rightfully belonged.

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The moment the baby was in Lei Jin’s arms, his tiny fists waved excitedly, his face breaking into a delighted grin. In that instant, Chunji felt a pang of guilt. No matter how many reasons he had, keeping the truth from the child’s birth parent for nearly three months was undeniably cruel.

Lei Jin kissed the baby’s cheek. Before leaving, he turned back and said, “Thank you, Chunji.”

Chunji froze for a second, then hurriedly ran back inside to fetch the baby’s belongings. As he handed them over, he finally uttered the long-suppressed words: “I’m sorry.”

Mingya was still in a daze, completely baffled by the situation. Though Xiya also didn’t understand how their supposedly lost child had come back to life, he knew Chunji wouldn’t joke about something like this.

What he hadn’t expected was that the baby’s eye color would unravel a mystery that had lingered in their family for nearly two decades.

Moya really is Uncle An Bu’s child.

Now, who knew what kind of storm this would stir up at home? Since there was no stopping it, all they could do was hope things would settle quickly.

“You’re back? Lunch will be ready soon—just wait a bit.” Roger emerged from the kitchen carrying a stack of bowls and utensils. When he saw the child in Lei Jin’s arms, he smiled and asked, “Is that Chunji’s baby? Why did you bring him back?”

“He’s not Chunji’s. He’s mine.” Lei Jin’s tone was calm.

“What?” Roger’s eyes widened in disbelief, thinking he had heard wrong.

Lei Jin briefly explained what had happened.

Roger was immediately overjoyed. “Really? How could such a thing happen? But it’s wonderful that the baby is alive! Come inside—it’s cold out. Let me see him.”

Lei Jin had been cradling the baby against his chest the whole way to shield him from the wind. Now, hearing voices, the curious little one turned his head and, upon seeing Roger, giggled without a trace of shyness.

But the moment Roger saw the baby’s eyes, his face paled. He staggered back two steps, the bowls in his hands shattering on the ground.

“I—I have a headache. I won’t eat lunch. Don’t wait for me. I’m going to rest.” With that, he turned and fled to his room, swiftly bolting the door behind him.

Xiya and Mingya, who had just entered behind Lei Jin, witnessed the scene.

“I didn’t do anything,” Lei Jin immediately defended himself—something he’d been doing a lot lately. What’s wrong with Roger?

“Don’t let the baby catch a cold. Go inside.” Xiya, carrying Mingya on his back, urged them to hurry in.

Later, when the rest of the family returned and heard the news about the baby, they were both shocked and overjoyed. The happiest was undoubtedly Moya. Lei Jin thought he looked like he might burst into tears at any moment—a rare sight.

Xiya was happy too, though a hint of worry lingered between his brows, his gaze frequently drifting toward Roger’s room.

As for Mingya, he just grinned foolishly, thrilled for no particular reason. Due to his injury, he had to remain in beast form to conserve energy. Lying nearby, he kept urging, “Second Brother, Second Brother!” demanding that Moya place the baby on his front paws for a closer look.

The baby didn’t seem afraid of him at all. When Mingya licked him, he giggled happily.

An Sen and An Luo knocked on Roger’s door several times with bowls of food, but received no response. After pressing their ears to the door for a while and confirming nothing out of the ordinary as well as adding to the fact that the children were present, they didn’t push further.

Everyone was happy, and Lei Jin played along, showing no signs of discomfort.

That night, Lei Jin suggested that Mingya share a bed with Moya while he slept alone with the baby. Understanding his feelings, none of the three objected. Moya even dug out the small animal hides they had brought back earlier and changed the baby into them.

While bathing, Lei Jin wondered if he should wash the baby too, but since he wasn’t sure how and Roger was in no state to ask, he decided against it. No need to risk making the baby sick.

“Baby, Baby… we should give you a name.” Lei Jin wiggled his fingers, and the baby swung his tiny fists to grab them. The two played back and forth on the bed, thoroughly entertained.

“What name should we give Baby?” Lei Jin asked the other three. Mingya was already in bed, Xiya was adding charcoal to the brazier (and tossing in a couple of sweet potatoes), and Moya—the proud new father—was pointlessly rearranging things in the room, seemingly unable to keep still.

Hearing this, Mingya perked up. “Oh, right! The baby doesn’t have a name yet! What should we call him? He’s our first baby!”

Xiya finished with the brazier, washed his hands in a wooden basin, and came over to stroke the baby’s cheek. “Baby, Naby, look at Daddy Xiya.”

The baby had been excited all day and still showed no signs of sleepiness, giggling at everyone he saw.

“Our baby is the prettiest,” Xiya said, clumsily lifting the child. Then, to Lei Jin, he added, “He’s just a bit thin. We’ll fatten him up—make him a chubby little baby.”

“You should name him. You’re his papa,” Moya said, pulling up a stool and placing a warm cup of milk fruit juice within Lei Jin’s reach.

Hearing the word papa, Lei Jin shuddered. “Don’t call me that.”

“Then what should we call you?” Moya sat on the edge of the bed, his mood visibly brighter than it had been in a long time. His fingers idly twirled a lock of Lei Jin’s soft hair.

Lei Jin lay on his side, propping his head up as he pondered. Call me ‘Dad’? But that might invite ridicule—the whole tribe knew the baby was his. ‘Father’? Roger had already claimed that. ‘Mother’? He’d rather die.

“It’s taking you this long to think of a title?”

Lei Jin snapped out of his thoughts to find Moya dangerously close, his warm breath brushing against his neck. His body instantly felt weak. Instinctively, he raised a hand to push Moya’s face away, but the moment his fingers brushed against the other’s mouth, he yanked them back as if burned, clenching his fist.

Damn it. If you’re going to be an ice block, then stay an ice block. Since when did you learn to act like this?

“Have you decided yet?” Moya pressed, deliberately leaning closer.

“Back up a little.” If you get any closer, I will have a reaction. Lei Jin inwardly cursed himself. Since when am I this desperate?

Moya’s lips curved into a quiet, tender smile, his eyes crinkling with warmth.

Trying to seduce me? Not a chance. Lei Jin glared defiantly but slowly faltered under that gaze. Clenching his fists, he fought the urge to punch something.

Fortunately, Xiya intervened before tragedy could strike. “Have you two settled on a name? Why are you fighting already?”

“I’ve decided,” Lei Jin announced loudly. “From now on, the baby will call me old Dad.”

“‘Dad’ is ‘Dad.’ Why ‘old Dad’?” Xiya, having dealt with Roger’s preferences before, had expected Lei Jin to reject papa. But old Dad?

“Because I like it.” Lei Jin waved a hand, as if that settled the matter.

“What about the baby’s actual name?” Mingya was still scratching his head in thought.

“I have a suggestion,” Lei Jin said.

“Let’s hear it,” Moya prompted.

Lei Jin wrapped himself in a blanket and sat cross-legged before declaring, “Chunji saved the baby’s life. I think he should name him.” Mostly because it was obvious how much Chunji loves this child.

Xiya glanced at Moya, who nodded. “That’s fine.”

“But before that, I’m giving the baby a nickname. His eyes are green—green like… like…” Lei Jin tugged at his hair. Like what?

“Grapes!” Mingya blurted, latching onto the first edible thing that came to mind.

“Perfect! The baby’s nickname is Grapes!” Lei Jin clapped his hands in delight. “Little Grapes, come to ol’ Dad!”

Xiya and Moya could only sigh inwardly, already foreseeing the future. Only Mingya cheered enthusiastically, further fueling Lei Jin’s inexplicable confidence—directly leading to the eventual fruity nicknames of all their subsequent children.

“By the way,” Lei Jin suddenly said, belatedly realizing the key issue, “the baby’s eyes are emerald green. Who does that come from?”

Moya’s expression instantly turned complicated.

“If you don’t even know who the baby resembles, how could you be so sure he’s ours? Weren’t you afraid Chunji was lying?” Xiya tried steering the conversation away.

“I can’t explain the feeling.” The moment Chunji had spoken, Lei Jin had believed him—he just hadn’t dared to. Would fate really be so kind? To return the child he’d thought lost forever, giving him a chance to make up for his mistakes?

But it had never crossed his mind that the baby wasn’t his. It felt right, as if the empty space in his heart had finally been filled.

“The sweet potatoes are done.” Lei Jin, still holding the baby, caught the rich, sugary aroma.

Moya fished them out of the brazier, dusted them off, peeled them, and handed half to Lei Jin. “Don’t eat too much at night—it’ll upset your stomach tomorrow.” The rest he placed in front of Mingya, who had been begging for them earlier. As a werebeast, Mingya could handle more food without issue.

“So sweet!” Mingya took a big bite.

“With less rain this year, the potatoes are naturally sweeter.” Lei Jin took a bite, and the baby’s eyes followed the movement curiously.

“Want a taste?” Grinning, Lei Jin dabbed a bit on his finger and held it to the baby’s mouth.

The toothless little one sucked eagerly, drooling all over.

“Don’t feed the baby random things. He’s too young,” Xiya chided, taking the child and wiping his mouth. “Baby, don’t eat whatever your papa gives you. You’ll get a stomachache.”

“It’s Grapes. And don’t ruin my image in front of my son!” Lei Jin protested vehemently.

“Fine, Grapes. We got it.” Moya popped the last bit of Lei Jin’s sweet potato into his own mouth and wiped his hands clean.

“Ah!” Mingya suddenly exclaimed.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

“What’s wrong? Does your leg hurt again?” Lei Jin asked anxiously.

“I just remembered! Baby—no, our little Grapes—his eyes look just like Uncle An Bu’s! Right, Eldest Brother? Second Brother?” Mingya sought confirmation.

The moment he said it, Lei Jin finally understood what was going on.

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Lei Jin didn’t know why, but the sound of this child crying twisted his heart with an unbearable ache, making him long to hold the little one in his arms and soothe him. And in the end, that was exactly what he did.

Ever since accompanying Mingya to Chunji’s place to change his bandages a couple of days ago, Lei Jin had begun noticing something strange about himself. One of the signs was that he couldn’t control his ears, which kept perking up involuntarily, especially when filtering out the sounds of the child. Whenever he heard the child’s voice, his heart would feel at peace for the entire day. But if he didn’t, his mind would grow restless, unsettled. Lei Jin concluded that he must have lost his mind—perhaps losing his own child had made him overly sensitive to other people’s children, to the point of irrational longing. To test this theory, he deliberately wandered around the tribe for a while. Given the cold weather, no one was foolish enough to take their children out for a stroll. Yet, as luck would have it, he did come across a few. However, no matter how adorable, clever, or beautiful those children were—whether werebeasts or young females—none left a lasting impression on him.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

It must be an illusion, Lei Jin kept telling himself. For the past two days, he had forced himself not to dwell on it. But today, the moment he heard the crying, his resolve crumbled. His mind was consumed with the desire to see this child who had so thoroughly disrupted his thoughts. If this continued, he feared he might develop some sort of unhealthy obsession—why else would he be so inexplicably fixated on Chunji’s child?

This should have been their first meeting, yet the child gave him an uncanny sense of familiarity—the soft, dark hair, the bright, lively green eyes—as if the child had always been a part of him, natural and intimate.

He had heard that Chunji had found this child while gathering herbs, and that the baby was barely three months old. No wonder he was so tiny, so delicate. Thanks to his prior experience with Bubbles, Lei Jin now held the child with practiced ease.

“Good baby, shhh, shhh,” Lei Jin murmured, his mind blank except for these words as the child’s cries sent his heart into turmoil.

But the moment he spoke, the child only cried harder, as if someone had pinched him mercilessly. His breaths came in uneven gasps, coughing between sobs.

“Lei Jin, what are you doing in there?” Chunji called from the yard.

“I swear I didn’t do anything!” Lei Jin hastily defended himself to the window. He was innocent.

“Brother Chunji, is that your baby? Don’t worry, Lei Jin wouldn’t bully him.” Though the pain from the medicine on his leg made Mingya gnaw at his own claws, he still found the breath to defend Lei Jin.

“I know. No one could love that child more than he does.” Chunji’s tone was strangely subdued as he said this.

Mingya found the statement odd—why would Lei Jin be the one who loved Chunji’s child the most? But he didn’t dwell on it. Besides, his leg hurt too much to think deeply about anything.

“Baby, your throat’s going hoarse. Stop crying.” Lei Jin’s heart ached helplessly, but he had no idea how to soothe the child. He turned to Chunji for help, only to be told to figure it out himself. Never in his life had Lei Jin felt so utterly at a loss.

Yet the baby showed him no mercy, continuing to wail.

“Shhh, good baby, don’t cry. Who are you crying for? Even your papa isn’t paying attention to you. Are you hungry?” The belated realization struck Lei Jin. Spotting a jug of warm milk fruit juice on the table, he managed to coax the child into a brief pause, feeding him a couple of sips before the baby refused more.

Tears and snot covered the little one’s face, but for once, Lei Jin didn’t mind the mess. Normally rough and careless, he now mustered every ounce of patience he had, wiping the child’s face with meticulous care. Seeing the baby clean and pretty again filled him with inexplicable pride. Unable to resist, he leaned down and planted two loud kisses on those chubby cheeks. And still he didn’t forget to insist on his innocence.

“It’s not like I’m taking advantage of you,” he reasoned shamelessly. “I fed you, so it’s only fair you repay me a little.” Then, unable to help himself, he gently poked the baby’s soft cheeks, marveling at how wonderfully smooth and tender a child’s skin could be.

The baby seemed to realize this was playtime, waving tiny fists and giggling.

“No wonder people say a child’s mood changes as fast as the weather in June. So true.”

After a while, the baby yawned, clearly ready for a nap. Lei Jin laid him down on the bed and settled beside him, thinking he’d just rest on the edge for a bit. Surely Chunji wouldn’t kick him out.

By the time Moya arrived to pick them up, only Mingya was in the yard. Chunji was busy in the kitchen, likely preparing lunch, but there was no sign of Lei Jin. After greeting Chunji and asking Mingya, Moya learned that Lei Jin had been in the room all morning without coming out.

When Moya stepped inside, he was met with a heartwarming scene—two heads resting close together, the figures on the bed, one large and one small, both fast asleep. Lei Jin lay on his side, one hand resting protectively over the baby’s swaddled form. Sunlight streamed through the window, bathing them in warmth, the harmony of the moment almost too precious to disturb.

Yet Moya’s nose stung with suppressed emotion. If their own child had lived, wouldn’t it have been just like this?

That lost child wasn’t just Lei Jin’s pain—it was a knot in all their hearts that would never fully loosen.

Lei Jin was distracted during lunch. When Moya had woken him to leave, the baby had stirred too, tiny fists clutching his clothes as he cried pitifully. Normally averse to trouble, Lei Jin had nearly blurted out a request to Chunji—Let me take care of him for a couple of days. But seeing Chunji’s somber expression, he held back. After all, this wasn’t his child. He had no right to make such a request.

Xiya glanced between Lei Jin and the silent Moya, unsure what had happened. It wasn’t the time to ask, so he simply focused on his meal.

“Whose child is this?” The old man in black emerged from the medicine room, eyeing the baby in Chunji’s arms—the same one who had been crying nonstop since that female left earlier.

“Mine.” Chunji didn’t look up, still soothing the child.

“You think you can fool me? Do I look like I can’t tell whether you’ve given birth or not? Brat, do you take me for a senile old man?”

Chunji pressed his lips together stubbornly, refusing to answer.

“Not only have you never borne a child, you’ve never even taken jade mugwort, have you?” The old man sat heavily on a stool, sighing. “When I helped you escape that damned place back then, what did I tell you? To live a good life, find someone, and never go back. But ten years—ten years!” His finger trembled as he pointed at Chunji. “In all that time, you never took a liking to anyone?”

Who says I didn’t? But after waiting nearly a decade, that person never once turned to look at him.

“And now you’ve outdone yourself—stealing someone else’s child! What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I didn’t steal him. I found him.” Chunji reflexively defended.

“Nonsense! Don’t tell me you didn’t know whose child this was. Even if you didn’t at first, after what happened this morning, how could you not know? Children of the werebeast tribes—whether male or female—have an instinctive bond with their papa. Babies especially can recognize their own bearer. That black-haired female and this child were clearly close. Don’t pretend you didn’t see it.”

Chunji was his own apprentice, raised by his own hands. Of course he cared for him. But that didn’t mean he could let him commit such a grave mistake, tearing a family apart.

“Master is right. It’s his child.” After a long silence, Chunji finally admitted, watching the now sleeping baby in his arms.

“Then explain everything to me.” Seeing Chunji’s admission, the old man’s expression softened slightly beneath his black hood.

The tribe knew Chunji was a skilled healer, but few were aware of one area where he was utterly inept—pregnancy and childbirth. Back when his master had taught him, Chunji had harbored an instinctive aversion to the subject, learning only half-heartedly. Fortunately, the tribe had dedicated physicians like Qing Qiao, and given Chunji’s already questionable reputation, no pregnant females sought him out anyway. He had been perfectly content with that arrangement.

So when Lei Jin had been pregnant, Chunji hadn’t hidden it—he simply hadn’t known.

It wasn’t until he encountered the banyan fruit during a herb-gathering trip that he recalled Lei Jin’s unusual condition at the time. If Lei Jin had been carrying a child, the acupuncture he’d administered would have directed the herb’s effects onto the baby. The dosage, negligible for an adult, could be devastating for a fetus—slowing its heartbeat, even inducing a temporary death-like state. That was why, despite being months along, Lei Jin had never sensed the child’s presence.

It had nothing to do with Qing Qiao’s initial diagnosis. Qing Qiao hadn’t known about the banyan fruit, so his assessment had been speculative at best.

Realizing this, Chunji had rushed back. By sheer chance, he had witnessed Moya placing the child on the hillside. Without hesitation, he had taken the baby.

The child had woken that very night, but between premature birth and the herb’s lingering effects, he was dangerously frail. For over two months, Chunji had mixed finely ground herbs into his milk fruit juice. There were moments when the baby’s suffering grew unbearable, and Chunji had nearly confessed everything to Lei Jin. But each time, he held back—not out of cowardice, but because he couldn’t bear to make Lei Jin lose the same child twice.

That kind of heartbreak… once was enough.

Especially after seeing Lei Jin lying pale and lifeless in bed that day, Chunji had wanted to strangle himself.

“If the child recovers, will you return him to them?” The old man asked, his voice steady, not commenting on anything else.

After a pause, Chunji nodded firmly. “I will.”

That had always been the plan—to heal the child and return him safely. He wanted to make up for his mistake.

“Then go call them back now. Tell them the truth.” The old man wouldn’t give Chunji room for second thoughts. Though they hadn’t seen each other in ten years, he knew his apprentice too well. That reluctance in his eyes? He still couldn’t let go.

“Master… are you certain you can heal Baby?” Chunji bit his lip, needing this one last confirmation. If the answer was yes, he would truly… let go.

The old man glared. “What do you think I’ve been locked in the medicine room doing all this time? You think I’m like you?”

Chunji huffed. “Now that’s the master I remember. Quit pretending to be all righteous.”

“You brat, complaining about me under your breath again?”

“Nooo.” Chunji pouted childishly, but inwardly, he felt a strange warmth. In the decade since the old man had left, no one had scolded him like this. As a child, he’d hated these lectures. Now, hearing them again… it wasn’t so bad.

Maybe it was time to straighten out his life—take care of this old man, live simply. No one else. Just the two of them.

“Let me keep him for two more days. After that… I’ll personally return Baby to Lei Jin.”

The old man nodded. For all his recklessness, once Chunji gave his word, he kept it.

“Baby, soon, you’ll be back with your papa. Will you still remember me?” Chunji murmured that night, pacing the room with the awake baby in his arms. Then he laughed at himself. “You’re too young. You’ll forget quickly. But… maybe that’s for the best.”

If he claimed to have no selfish feelings for this child, he’d be lying. The moment those green eyes had first opened, staring up at him, a traitorous thought had flickered through his mind—what if Lei Jin never knew this child existed?

After all, even without this one, Lei Jin could have others.

But after coming back to his senses, the thought had horrified him.

“Baby, when you go home… Roger’s going to have a heart attack seeing your eyes, huh?” The idea lightened his mood slightly. Rationally, he wanted to get along with Roger. But emotions weren’t so easily untangled.

The next day, Lei Jin returned with Mingya for another bandage change. He had meant to restrain himself, but his heart kept drifting toward the inner room. Ah, well. I’ve never been one for shame anyway.

Just as he opened his mouth to ask after the baby, Chunji spoke first.

“I’m busy here. Since you’ve got nothing to do, go watch the child.”

Lei Jin didn’t need to be told twice. In a flash, he was inside, and soon, laughter spilled from the room.

Chunji listened for a moment, then snorted. “Who cares? He’s been keeping me up all night. Good riddance—I’ll finally get some sleep.”

“Brother Chunji, what are you mumbling about?” Mingya asked. Also, you’re squeezing my injured leg.

“How about I gift you a son? Want one?” Chunji released his grip, teasing.

“No.” Mingya’s furry face was dead serious. Then, brightening, he added with a sweet smile, “Mingya only wants babies born by Lei Jin! If Lei Jin doesn’t want to, then Mingya will have his baby!”

Chunji stared speechless. This kid… just how naïve is he? Still believing that werebeats can bear children.

But that kind of unwavering devotion… once Mingya set his heart on someone, it was for life.

Lei Jin really made one envious—to have three werebeasts so utterly devoted to him.

So Lei Jin, this is fate’s way of punishing you. You’ll never go back. You’re stuck here, living as a female, bearing children.

The thought eased something in Chunji’s chest.

By tomorrow… he’ll truly be ready to let go.

But when the moment truly came, Chunji’s hands trembled as he held the child. The old man placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Master,” Chunji whispered.

Winter had passed, but the air remained chilly. The courtyard, once vibrant with summer blooms, now held only a few evergreen shrubs, their stubborn leaves clinging to life.

“Lei Jin.” Chunji called out just as Lei Jin was helping Mingya climb onto Xiya’s back.

“What’s up? Did your baby miss me again? Can’t be helped—I’m just too charming. Irresistible to all ages.” Lei Jin sauntered over, playfully nibbling the baby’s fist. “Uncle will visit tomorrow, okay? Be good for your papa.”

Chunji took a deep breath. “He’s not my child.”

“Oh? Then whose is he—mine?” Lei Jin raised a brow, joking.

That solemn look… as if he’s serious. But Chunji doted on this child like it was his own. Lei Jin wasn’t blind.

“He is yours.”

Xiya and Mingya both turned to stare.

Lei Jin froze, then scoffed. “Not funny.”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

“He’s the child you carried for seven months. The one you thought had died. I found him on the hillside, in the snow. Pei Ning can vouch for it.” Pei Ning was the werebeast who accompanied him while herb gathering.

Lei Jin’s expression became solemn, his tone still calm. “You’re telling the truth?”

Chunji met his gaze steadily. “Yes.”

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