Early the next morning, as soon as the sun rose and the air warmed slightly, Lei Jin and Mingya set off.  

Since it wasn’t a big deal, and Xiya and Moya had other matters to attend to, Lei Jin didn’t ask them to see him off. Bundled up warmly, he was about to leave when Roger handed him a flat, round hot water flask—about the size of a biscuit tin—with a small wooden stopper. Surprisingly, it didn’t leak at all. Lei Jin thought to himself, I’m not that delicate, but not wanting to waste time arguing, he tucked it into his coat without protest.  

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

The two left the house heading east. Fallen leaves covered the recently swept bluestone paths of the village, rustling underfoot. The streets were quiet, with only a few children running around. Mingya, clearly instructed beforehand, was on high alert, nervously guarding Lei Jin to prevent anyone from bumping into him.  

Lei Jin found it amusing and wanted to ruffle his hair, but realized it wasn’t as easy as before—the little guy had grown taller.  

Mingya shifted into his beast form, and Lei Jin’s heart instinctively tightened. His steps slowed slightly. But truthfully, Mingya’s beast form was beautiful—the first time Lei Jin had seen it clearly in broad daylight. His snow-white fur shimmered silver under the late autumn sun, his body sleek and powerful, with wings as broad and majestic as Xiya’s and Moya’s. To make it easier for Lei Jin to climb on, he obediently crouched low.  

When Lei Jin hesitated, Mingya turned his head questioningly.  

“Let’s go.” Lei Jin quickly mounted and settled in.  

Mingya carefully wrapped his tail around Lei Jin’s waist, then happily bounded forward a few steps before spreading his wings and taking off. “Lei Jin, Mingya’s taking you flying!”  

Feeling Mingya’s excitement, Lei Jin spread his arms and took a deep breath of the crisp morning air, temporarily setting aside his reservations.  

The Leopard Tribe lived far from the sea and relied on sea salt. Salt pans were dug along the coast for evaporation. Lei Jin had long wanted to collect brine to make tofu, but with the beans not yet ripe and his injuries keeping him busy, the idea had slipped his mind until he saw the beans the other day.  

As for Lei Jin knowing how to make tofu—in the modern world, no one would believe it. Who’d associate the mob boss of the Qingyan Gang with tofu? But he hadn’t been born a mob boss. Before that, he’d had to make a living too.  

When Lei Jin was seven or eight, an elderly couple in their sixties had taken him in. They ran a small, unremarkable bean shop by the roadside, making tofu, soybean oil, soy sauce, and vinegar. It wasn’t a lucrative business, but their traditional methods ensured loyal customers and a comfortable life. Their children, however, wanted nothing to do with it, pursuing their own careers elsewhere.  

The couple had found Lei Jin on the streets and treated him like their own grandson, even sending him to school. For the first time, Lei Jin had stability. Though restless in class, he was bright enough to get by. After school, he helped at the bean shop, gradually picking up the trade. His grandfather had even promised to leave the shop to him. If not for later events, he might have become an ordinary tofu shop owner—maybe even with a family by now. But fate had other plans.  

After a few peaceful years, his grandparents died in a car accident on their way to buy beans. After the funeral, their children sold the shop, giving Lei Jin a small share. He understood—they owed him nothing. That night, he packed his things and left.  

He’d mentioned bits of this past to Liu Si once, who sighed and said, “That’s just fate.”  

But Lei Jin didn’t believe in fate. If he had, he’d have frozen or starved to death long ago—abandoned at five, kicked out at ten. Fate was just an excuse. The only thing worth believing in was himself, because no one stayed forever. He’d survived this long; he’d survive this too. Once he left, he’d forget everything here. He would.  

A cold gust snapped him back to the present.  

“Lei Jin, are you cold? If you are, lie down on Mingya.” Mingya, noticing his silence, sounded worried.  

“I’m fine. Keep flying.” Lei Jin adjusted his hat and buried his hands in Mingya’s thick, warm neck fur.  

The late autumn plains were a golden expanse, with only faint traces of green along the riverbanks. Most animals had migrated south, and smaller streams had dried up, leaving cracked beds. The blue coastline was now faintly visible. Checking the sun, Lei Jin estimated they’d been flying for over two hours. Thank goodness for werebeasts—on foot, the trip would’ve taken over a week.  

At the Leopard Tribe’s salt flats, Mingya landed behind a wind-sheltering rock.  

The flask in Lei Jin’s coat was still warm. He took a sip, then offered it to Mingya.  

“The wind here is brutal.” Lei Jin rubbed his hands and pulled out a prepared bag.  

The salt flats stretched white under the sun. Since they were here, they might as well take some salt back. The crystallized salt was coarse and damp. Mingya helped scoop it into the bag while Lei Jin dug out a few chunks of brine from the bottom.  

Thinking of the merfolk father and son at home, Lei Jin searched the nearby beach and found fresh shellfish.  

“Mingya, which kind do you think Bubbles would like?” Bending was difficult now, so Lei Jin nudged shells out of the sand with his foot while Mingya collected them.  

“Mingya?” When no answer came, Lei Jin turned to see Mingya tense, staring at a figure approaching in the distance.  

At first, Lei Jin didn’t recognize him. But up close, those navy blue eyes—identical to Bubbles’—told him the inevitable had arrived.  

“Long time no see. What a coincidence,” the man—now known to Lei Jin as Lan Qi—said.  

“Very coincidental,” Lei Jin replied dryly. As if I’d believe that. Lan Qi had likely learned Berg was in the Leopard Tribe but didn’t know exactly where. Since merfolk weren’t suited to land travel, he’d probably staked out the salt flats to ambush them.  

“You’re pregnant?” Lan Qi’s gaze swept over Lei Jin’s belly, then to Mingya. “Last time, it wasn’t this one, was it? Changed partners?”  

Lei Jin pushed Mingya behind him, expression darkening. “What business is it of yours who I’m with? Mingya, let’s go.”  

Lan Qi, caught off guard, quickly blocked their path. He’d thought Lei Jin, unlike other females, wouldn’t mind such jokes. Why the sudden hostility?  

“I was just joking.” Lan Qi tried to explain.

“Lei Jin doesn’t like you. Move.” Mingya bared his claws and lunged. Lan Qi stepped back—not out of fear, but because he needed their cooperation.  

Seizing the moment, Lei Jin climbed onto Mingya’s back. “Let’s go.” With the salt and shellfish already secured, they took off effortlessly.  

“Hey, wait!” Lan Qi chased a few steps, but merfolk were no match for werebeasts on land.  

“Lei Jin, who was that?” Mingya asked once airborne.  

“Berg’s man.” Lei Jin tugged Mingya’s ear.  

“So… Bubbles’ father?” Mingya found Lei Jin’s sudden attitude shift puzzling. Why not take him to see Bubbles?  

“Yeah.” But so what? Lei Jin had acted offended deliberately to catch Lan Qi off guard. Both encounters had involved Berg—even if Lan Qi didn’t react immediately, he’d soon connect the dots. By then, it’d be too late.  

“Hmph. Smart female.” Lan Qi’s smile vanished as he watched them disappear. “Think hiding Berg will stop me?”  

When Lei Jin and Mingya returned, Roger was grinding soybeans in the yard, a half-full bucket beside him. After a late breakfast, Mingya left for patrol training while Lei Jin and Roger continued their tofu-making in the kitchen.  

Berg was napping with Bubbles. Assuming Lan Qi wouldn’t arrive soon, Lei Jin saw no urgency in warning them yet.  

The ground soybeans were strained and boiled into pure, natural soy milk. Before removing it from the pot, Lei Jin and Roger each ladled a bowl to taste.  

“Not bad.” Lei Jin blew on his, shamelessly praising his own work. Whether it was the quality of the beans or his skills, this batch was better than any he’d had in the modern world—no beany aftertaste at all.  

“What are you two steaming up the kitchen for? It’s not even mealtime.” Su Rui, ignored after knocking, let himself in.  

“Try this. Lei Jin’s latest creation.” Roger handed him a bowl.  

Su Rui sipped, unaccustomed at first but soon appreciating the rich flavor.  

“It’s good. What’s it made from?”  

“Just ordinary beans.” Lei Jin pointed to the half-bag in the corner.  

“The beans no one wants? Lei Jin, you’re quite the capable female.” Su Rui smiled approvingly.  

Lei Jin wiped cold sweat, awkwardly accepting the compliment.  

Su Rui had come to deliver the remaining shoes, gloves, and hats, plus two pairs of thick knitted socks, all bundled in fur.  

As the soy milk cooled, Lei Jin started curdling the tofu, inviting Su Rui to stay for bean curd. The key step was adding the brine—too much or too little would ruin it, and it had to be stirred evenly.  

A small portion of the curds were set aside as soft tofu, while the rest was wrapped in gauze and pressed in a perforated wooden tub to firm up.  

Speaking of which, the gauze was quite special—woven from golden silk spiderwebs, dense with holes slightly larger than needle eyes. Though small (none exceeded half a meter) and hard to join, it was perfect for filtering.  

With few seasonings on hand, Lei Jin quickly made thin egg crepes, sliced them into shreds, and topped the silky bean curd with meat sauce and scallions.  

Su Rui loved it, praising it repeatedly. Berg, waking up, joined them. The four crowded into the warm kitchen, chatting happily over food.  

Life here is so leisurely, Lei Jin mused. Perhaps because departure neared, these moments felt more precious.  

As Su Rui left, Lei Jin gave him a jar of bean curd and two blocks of tofu, explaining how to prepare them.  

That night, while others were distracted, Lei Jin pulled Berg aside and told him about Lan Qi.  

“Don’t panic. Is there anywhere you can hide?” Though Lei Jin knew evasion wasn’t a long-term solution, Berg’s terrified expression made persuasion futile.  

“There’s nowhere left. He’ll catch me soon. Can I ever escape him?” Berg collapsed onto the bed, clutching his hair in despair. The thought of returning to that forced submission made death seem preferable.  

“You have Bubbles. What are you thinking?” Lei Jin recognized that look—he’d seen it often in those pushed to the brink.  

“Right… Bubbles. I can’t die.” Berg jerked up, yanking the sleeping Bubbles from his tub and squeezing him tightly.  

The child wailed in pain.  

“Berg, calm down. Lan Qi isn’t here yet. Look at yourself—you’re hurting Bubbles!” Lei Jin took the sobbing child, gently patting his back.  

“Lei Jin, what should I do? I can’t go back to him. What do I do?”  

“I don’t have a perfect solution yet.” The village was too small to hide someone easily. If Lan Qi didn’t know Berg was here, they might’ve managed. But with him actively hunting, it was tricky. Given Berg’s father was a tribal leader yet couldn’t protect him, Lan Qi’s background was clearly formidable. Killing him secretly would spark a tribal war—and he was Bubbles’ father.  

Escaping wasn’t feasible either—the wilderness was harsh, especially with winter coming.  

“At Lan Qi’s speed, without help, he’ll take days to reach us. We’ll think of something by then.” Lei Jin sounded confident, but in truth he was out of ideas.  

Reassured, Berg gradually calmed.  

After more comforting, Lei Jin returned the sleeping Bubbles to his tub. As he closed the door, Berg sat slumped by the tub, lost in thought.  

Back in his room, the bath was ready. Xiya undressed Lei Jin, helped him in, then joined him.  

Thankfully, their tub was spacious. Lei Jin raised a brow but didn’t protest, leaning back with his arms resting on the rim as Xiya washed him.  

“Tired from today?” Xiya’s hands wandered, kisses trailing lower until Lei Jin’s breathing roughened.  

“Not bad.” Lei Jin’s face flushed, but he kept his eyes stubbornly shut.  

Xiya, undeterred, intensified his attentions, lifting Lei Jin to straddle his lap.  

“You…” Lei Jin’s eyes flew open as something pressed inside.  

“Can’t skip cleaning inside.” Xiya grinned, fingers moving teasingly. “Don’t look at me like that, or else I’ll think you want something else instead of fingers, that you’d prefer me to—”  

“Shut up.” Lei Jin’s voice wavered, but his body arched into the touch.  

“Fine, no talking. But no moving either.” Xiya’s own restraint was fraying. He captured Lei Jin’s lips, tongue delving deep as his fingers thrust faster, nails scraping sensitive walls.  

Lei Jin gripped Xiya’s shoulders, back bowing as he came with a sharp cry.  

Moya, rubbing his temples, entered to find them entangled. “Done? Don’t catch a chill.”  

“Almost. Take Lei Jin out. I’ll finish up.” Xiya sighed. They must’ve offended Healer Qing Qiao—preparing the birth canal without penetration was torture. At this rate, he’d go impotent.  

Moya wrapped Lei Jin in a soft blanket, dried him, and tucked him into bed.  

Lei Jin’s swollen limbs needed nightly massages to ease his sleep.  

“You’re back late. Where were you?” Lei Jin asked, noting his exhaustion.  

“Discussing your land proposal. Endless debates.” The stubborn elders had nearly deafened him.  

“Dinner?” Lei Jin fought drowsiness—warm baths, orgasms, and massages were irresistible.  

“Had some. The tofu was good.”  

“Glad you liked it.” Lei Jin’s eyelids drooped.  

“Sleep.” Moya turned him over, massaging his other leg.  

“One more thing.” Lei Jin forced himself awake, repeating the story of his encounter with Lan Qi.  

“Don’t worry. We’ve got it handled. Details tomorrow.” Xiya covered Lei Jin’s eyes. “Sleep.”  

Reassured, Lei Jin drifted off.  

Lan Qi arrived faster than expected—in five days. Though the tribe had been warned to deny Berg’s presence, they knew it wouldn’t fool Lan Qi for long.  

A month passed with Lan Qi settled in Chief An Bu’s home, mingling amiably while conspicuously not asking about Berg—which only heightened Lei Jin’s suspicion.  

“Must you look so unwelcoming every time I visit?” Lan Qi lounged against the courtyard gate, watching Lei Jin work.  

“You just noticed?” Lei Jin scoffed. Daily visits were excessive. Anyone would get tired of seeing the same ol’ face everyday, okay?

“Then tell me where Berg is.” Lan Qi’s patience snapped, his natural arrogance unveiled. He knew there was no use asking others. Berg’s whereabouts were definitely known to this family.

“How should I know where this Berg of yours is?” Lei Jin turned away disdainfully. As if this guy could scare him.

“Name your price. Just tell me where Berg is.” It had been a whole month, why was this Lei Jin so difficult.

“I want you to leave me alone.” Force didn’t work so trying out bribery now? Too bad Lei Jin didn’t buy either.

Lan Qi left, seething.  

Lei Jin, now over seven months pregnant, waited until he was gone before rubbing his sore back and sitting down.  

Berg was hiding in the old treehouse, refurbished for winter. But temperatures were dropping—fine for Berg, but risky for Bubbles. While Lei Jin distracted Lan Qi, Roger had gone to deliver supplies. With the tribe busy preparing the final winter hunt, prolonged vigilance was impossible. Evasion wasn’t ideal, but it was their only option.  

Roger returned, shaking off snow. “Bubbles has a fever.”  

“Maybe we should bring him back.” Lei Jin pondered. Lan Qi likely didn’t know about Bubbles—perhaps he could be hidden.  

Roger drank a sip of hot water and agreed. “The weather’s turning. First snow’s coming. I’ll fetch Bubbles tomorrow. Today he’s ill so Berg would want to stay by his side.”  

Lei Jin cracked the window open a bit. Leaden clouds loomed and it really did look like it would snow soon—the days were truly flying by, winter had arrived.  

“Is Bubbles’ fever serious?”  

“Currently, it seems to be mild. We prepared herbs—Berg gave him some so it should improve overnight.”  

“Good.” Lei Jin rubbed his belly. The baby had been unusually active lately—could it be a werebeast baby, coming so early? The thought of a tiny leopard inside him still unsettled him. Towards this child, Lei Jin didn’t want to form any bonds, after all this was an unplanned child.  

Before dawn, Moya stirred at a faint noise. Lei Jin, dark circles under his eyes, lay curled against him. These days, he barely slept, waking frequently in discomfort. Each pained grimace tore at Moya’s heart. He could only use frequent massages to try and alleviate the pain and discomfort.

Xiya, also roused, dressed quickly.  

Xiya gestured to the house, Moya nodded, and whispered, “He barely managed to fall asleep after tossing and turning all night. I think he can sleep for a while. Let’s go out and take a look.”

Just as the two stepped outside, they found Berg pinned to a tree by Lan Qi, choking as Bubbles wailed in his arms.  

“Moya, help!” Berg gasped.  

“Lan Qi, let go.” Moya’s headache spiked. He immediately knew who the troublemaker was without even having to look.

“So it’s you.” Lan Qi’s glare returned to Berg. “So this is the man you’re obsessed with? That means this bastard’s his?”  

“Don’t touch Bubbles!” Berg shielded the child.  

“I say, can you at least check your surroundings,” Xiya drawled.  

“More than one? Berg, you’re quite capable aren’t you—did you not tell them how you begged for more under me?”  

“Lan Qi, you asshole! Let me go!” Berg fought wildly, but he was holding and sick Bubbles and he was no match for Lan Qi.

“Are you so eager to throw yourself into their arms?” Lan Qi was already blinded by jealousy. For more than a month, he pretended to be unbothered and searched for Berg’s traces in the tribe during the day. At night, he would stay on guard near Lei Jin’s house, only to be faced with Berg’s rejection and fierce avoidance.

Xiya and Moya realized that they couldn’t reason with him now. In order to prevent Lan Qi from accidentally strangling Berg to death, they had no choice but to get him away first.

But at this moment, something unexpected happened. Bubbles, who had a severe fever, started crying and fussing loudly in Berg’s arms. Seeing the undisguised heartache on Berg’s face, Lan Qi became enraged and snatched Bubbles and hurled him. His original intention was to throw him to Xiya and Moya, but Xiya and Moya had just rushed over to take action, just missing Bubbles who fell towards the wall.  

“BUBBLES!” Berg screamed and with a burst of strength, he pushed aside Lan Qi and threw himself at Bubbles. But it was already too late, Bubbles was already a breath away from colliding against the wall.  

Lei Jin had actually been feigning sleep earlier, afraid Moya and the others would be worried. So the commotion outside did not escape his notice. But just when he stepped outside, he was faced with this scene, and without any time to think, he ran over just in time to catch the child—but the impact slammed him into the wall.  

Agony exploded in his abdomen. Lei Jin reflexively clutched at his stomach with his free hand, “My baby!”

“Lei Jin!” Everything was too sudden, no one had time to prevent it.

“Xiya, the baby—” Lei Jin, trembling, clutched at Xiya who was the closest to him.  

“Berg…” Lan Qi helped Berg up who had collapsed on the ground.  

“Lan Qi, I will never forgive you in this life. You killed your own son. Bubbles is your child, and you killed him with your own hands.” Berg knew that things were irreversible. How could he bear to watch his son being killed by the fall? Naturally, he didn’t know that Bubbles had been rescued.

“He is your son, Lan Qi.” A vicious smile appeared on Berg’s lips in vengeance. Without Bubbles, he had nothing to care about, but he wanted this man to live in regret forever.  

“What did you say?” Lan Qi’s eyes were filled with shock and disbelief.

Moya thrust the unconscious child into Berg’s arms and punched Lan Qi violently, his dark eyes icy with murder. “If anything happens to Lei Jin, no matter the cost, I’ll take your life.”  

Healer Qing Qiao, summoned urgently, diagnosed premature labor. “Boil water. Lots of it.”  But Lei Jin, half-conscious and curled in pain, refused his touch. He really couldn’t give a complete diagnosis.

Lei Jin felt as if the world had turned cold and dark, like the winter nights of his childhood when he wandered the streets. There was no one else but him and it was so cold.  

No, this pain was different, it was his unborn child. His stomach hurt so much, something kept squeezing towards the exit at the back. But he knew the child was not full-term yet, and if they came out like this, he would not be able to keep them. Lei Jin instinctively held his stomach to keep the baby inside, because this was his child. However, the pain in his lower half that was getting stronger and stronger made him realize that he could not keep the child any longer.

“Lei Jin, Lei Jin, don’t be scared, we’re here.” Moya didn’t know what to do now. He was sweating with nervousness. Seeing that Lei Jin seemed to be shivering from the cold, he hugged him tightly and kissed him on the lips over and over again to comfort him.

“Moya, the baby’s too early—” Lei Jin panted, the pain pulling him into consciousness.  

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Healer Qing Qiao said that babies born six months premature can survive. Our baby is more than seven months old, almost eight months old, so it will be okay to come out.” Xiya sat on the edge of the bed, holding Lei Jin’s hand. Fortunately, Lei Jin did not reject their approach.

Lei Jin bit his lip and couldn’t speak, he just stared at Xiya.

Xiya understood what he meant and asked Healer Qing Qiao to come and talk to him in person. After finally getting it confirmed, Lei Jin straightened his back and tried to relax his whole body.  

Healer Qing Qiao, seeing that Lei Jin was awake, prepared to come over and take off his pants, but Lei Jin was still resisting strongly, so Xiya and Moya had to do it together. Moya held Lei Jin and put his head on his lap, while Xiya lifted his legs and took off his pants, threw them and his cotton coat aside, and found a dry cotton tunic for him to change into.

“Spread his legs a little more.” Healer Qing Qiao still couldn’t see clearly.

“No…” Lei Jin felt embarrassed with his legs spread wide open in front of so many outsiders.

“It’s okay. Childbirth is like this. Healer Qing Qiao is helping the baby come out earlier.” Moya used a towel to wipe the cold sweat off his face.

“Next time it’ll be your turn to give birth.” Speaking so nonchalantly, it’s not you who is in pain now.

“Okay, okay…” Moya agreed hastily, not knowing what he had agreed to. He only knew that he had to agree to whatever Lei Jin said.

As his legs were spread, fluid gushed out.  

“The water has broken, check how many fingers dilated he is.” This time, Healer Qing Qiao wisely had Xiya perform the examination.  

Xiya reported a number, but Healer Qing Qiao shook his head. “Not enough. We still have to wait.”

“But Lei Jin is in so much pain…” Xiya was so frantic he didn’t know where to put his hands.  

Time passed minute by minute, Lei Jin’s pain intensifying with each wave, yet Healer Qing Qiao still insisted it wasn’t time.  

Dawn broke, and outside, the howling north wind battered against the window frames. Inside, the room was stifling hot, sweat pouring down everyone’s faces.  

Healer Qing Qiao had been a doctor for over thirty years, usually calm and composed. But perhaps Xiya and Moya’s panic had infected him, making him restless too. Roger was the only one who remained somewhat level-headed. “First births are always difficult. It’ll take a while yet.” He prepared hot porridge, urging everyone to eat a little.  

Lei Jin’s stomach churned with agony—he had no appetite. But Xiya and Moya coaxed him into eating a few bites. The baby’s arrival was unpredictable; he needed to conserve his strength.  

By noon, Lei Jin had passed out from the pain multiple times, yet the baby still hadn’t moved. But Healer Qing Qiao knew time was running out. The waters had broken, but the baby hadn’t descended into the birth canal. If this continued, both bearer and child would suffer.  

“Xiya, Moya, hold Lei Jin’s arms and legs so he doesn’t thrash.” Healer Qing Qiao rolled up his sleeves.  

“Lei Jin just fell asleep. Can’t we wait until he wakes up?” Xiya couldn’t bear it. After watching Lei Jin endure hours of torment, he finally had a moment of respite. Whatever Healer Qing Qiao planned next would only bring more suffering.  

Moya silently agreed.  

“Don’t be ridiculous. Listen to Healer Qing Qiao—the longer this drags on, the worse it’ll be for Lei Jin.” Roger chided them softly—typical first-time fathers.  

Healer Qing Qiao took a deep breath and turned to Roger. “You help too.”  

Understanding, Roger nodded. Together, the two pressed down on Lei Jin’s abdomen with all four hands, forcing the baby downward.  

“Stop… It hurts…” Lei Jin writhed violently. Afraid he’d hurt himself, Xiya and Moya pinned his limbs firmly.  

“Don’t struggle. Save your strength…” Healer Qing Qiao paused to wipe his sweat.  

“So tired… Let me sleep…” Lei Jin was nearly spent, his face deathly pale.  

“Don’t let him sleep. Keep talking to him.” Healer Qing Qiao resumed, pressing harder. The pain was unbearable—worse than any injury Lei Jin had suffered in his life.  

“Lei Jin, push! I can see the baby’s head! It’s a little female! Just a bit more, and they’ll be out!” Under their relentless pressure, Roger finally caught a glimpse of the child.  

“I… can’t…” Lei Jin was drenched, his only clothing soaked through despite the winter chill.  

“Still not enough. The baby won’t come like this. We need to prepare labor-inducing herbs—if this continues, he’ll have to drink it.” Healer Qing Qiao’s heart ached for Lei Jin, but this was the burden every papa had to endure.  

“I’ll go. Elder Brother, take over here.” Moya stroked Lei Jin’s sweat-damp hair, seeing the plea in his exhausted eyes. “I’ll be back soon. We’ll welcome our baby together.”

Healer Qing Qiao retrieved the herbs from his kit and handed them to Moya.  

“Hold on a little longer. The baby will be here soon, and then you can rest.” Xiya cradled Lei Jin’s head on his lap, gripping his hand tightly. “Don’t be scared, don’t be scared.”

“Seems like you’re the scared one.” Lei Jin’s voice was hoarse from straining. Xiya’s hands hadn’t stopped trembling.  

Xiya smiled bitterly. He’d noticed—but he couldn’t help it.  

The brief respite didn’t last. Healer Qing Qiao steeled himself and pressed down again.  

The agony shattered Lei Jin’s coherence. He could only moan their names—”Xiya… Moya…”—in a daze.  

Outside, snow was about to fall. Moya took several deep breaths to steady himself before lighting the small medicinal stove. He set the pot of water and herbs over the flame, fanning it with a piece of bark. The baby’s arrival should have been joyous, but an inexplicable dread gnawed at him. It’s just my imagination. Lei Jin and the baby will be fine. We’ll have many more years together.

Forcing himself to focus, Moya added another log to the fire. The cold was biting today—perfect for the mink fur they’d bought to keep the baby warm.  

When Moya emerged with the finished decoction, the first snow of winter had begun to fall. He quickened his steps, eager to tell Lei Jin—just last night, he’d asked when the snow would come.  

But as he reached the door, Xiya stepped out, eyes bloodshot, cradling a small bundle wrapped in black fur. He shook his head silently.  

Moya’s hands went slack. The medicine bowl shattered on the ground, dark liquid spreading like spilled ink.  

“A little black-haired female. Take a look—then I’ll carry them away.”  

According to tradition, a stillborn child could not be buried. They had to be sent off quickly, lest their spirit linger and shorten their papa’s lifespan. Whether true or not, they had no choice.  

“Let me… send him off.” Moya stretched out his arms. The baby’s face was still red and wrinkled, too underdeveloped to resemble anyone. So light—barely a weight in his arms.  

“Come back soon. Lei Jin fainted—he’s not doing well.” Xiya added, as he watched Moya’s retreating figure, but he was uncertain if he heard him or not.

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

“Little one… you never wanted to come, did you? We forced you. Your papa never even got to see you… and you never opened your eyes to this world.” Moya tucked the fur snugly around the tiny form, brushing a final touch over his cheek before draping the excess hide over his head. “This is where I often brought your papa to watch the sunrise. The first light always touches here—it’s warm. Rest well, little one. Your dad must return to your papa now. He always said he didn’t want you… but he could never truly harden his heart. He must be grieving now.”

The snow fell heavily, soon blanketing the black bundle. The moment Moya turned away, tears streamed down his face—but he didn’t look back.  

Their first child had come with winter’s first snow… and departed just as swiftly.

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Roger had initially been puzzled about why Healer Qing Qiao would so easily hand over the abortion prescription. After all, Healer Qing Qiao had once had three children in his lifetime—two died shortly after birth, and the third disappeared on the first hunt after coming-of-age trials and never returned. These tragedies, combined with his role as a healer, made him deeply protective of every child in the tribe. He couldn’t bear the thought of harming a child—though such incidents were rare to begin with.  

“That white tea flower isn’t an abortifacient at all. It’s a mild, nourishing herb that soothes both the baby and the bearer’s restless emotions. It also warms and regulates the body. Drinking it in moderation is beneficial for both bearer and child.”  

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

In other words, Qing Qiao had taken advantage of Xiya and the others’ inexperience to deceive them outright. Any experienced female in the tribe would have known better.  

Though Moya now knew the baby in Lei Jin’s belly was likely still alive, he felt little joy. From the moment Lei Jin drank that bowl of medicine, his heart had felt like it had been hollowed out, filled only with icy winds. Putting himself in Lei Jin’s shoes, he didn’t blame him—only hated himself.  

Xiya’s expression was equally joyless. He understood this was merely a matter of time. If not now, Lei Jin would demand it again later. Sooner or later, the baby’s fate would be sealed.  

“Uncle Roger, you’re all here? Have you collected your family’s share yet?” Ivey’s loud voice carried over as he supported Yaxi, who walked slowly beside him.  

“Why are you so late? Everything’s been distributed already,” Xiya said, tying up the bags of beans before looking up.  

“I already asked someone to collect ours. The weather’s nice today, so I brought Yaxi out for a walk. We ended up here.”  

“I think you did it on purpose—you just want everyone to know Yaxi’s pregnant and you’re going to be a father again,” Xiya teased, hefting the sealed bags. There was quite a lot—he wondered what Lei Jin planned to do with so many beans.  

“Of course I did it on purpose! What are you going to do about it? Jealous?” Ivey was a few years older than Xiya, but the two had been close friends for years. Back when tensions arose over Moya and Yaxi, they’d each taken sides and avoided each other for a long time. After reconciling, they grew even closer. So when Xiya teased him, Ivey fired back without hesitation.  

Yaxi, however, was more sensitive. He tugged at Ivey’s sleeve.  

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling uncomfortable?” Ivey didn’t pick up the hint.  

Yaxi anxiously shot him a meaningful glance, then subtly gestured toward his belly. Only then did Ivey belatedly recall the recent rumors. But the words were already out—he couldn’t openly apologize now. He awkwardly rubbed his nose and chuckled dryly.  

Lei Jin had already stepped away from the crowd when Ivey spoke. After all, the land reform idea was still in its early stages. The chief and tribal elders would need time to discuss it.  

A few people lingered near Lei Jin, eager for more details. If each family really got their own plot, they’d need to plan ahead.  

Lei Jin understood—once the land belonged to them, enthusiasm would naturally rise. Seeing this, An Bu grew more convinced of the proposal’s merit. Whether it was Lei Jin or Roger, they always brought fresh ideas that revitalized the tribe.  

It was just a pity about the past. He had disappointed Roger, causing the other to ignore him even now. It was fine though, as long as Roger and Moya were well, he couldn’t ask for more. Once Mura found his own werebeast mate, his promise would’ve been fulfilled.

Roger noticed An Bu’s gaze and frowned in disgust. How dare he play the lovelorn martyr after what he did?

When the crowd caught sight of Yaxi’s belly, they swarmed forward with congratulations—some tinged with envy.  

Ivey, spotting Lei Jin, gave him an awkward nod. Lei Jin didn’t understand the context, but everyone else did. Their expressions turned uneasy—not just toward Lei Jin, but Xiya and Moya as well. Pity? Sympathy? The undercurrents varied, but soon, excuses were made, and people hurried off.  

Yaxi came over to greet Roger. He’d once visited the family often and they’d gotten along well in the past.  

“Yaxi, how many months along are you? It’s starting to show,” Roger asked with a smile. Yaxi was gentle and meek—not that Roger disliked him, but he never knew how to interact without accidentally saying something hurtful. Lei Jin was easier—their conversations could be direct and unfiltered.  

“Almost four months.” Yaxi touched his slightly rounded belly, cheeks flushing shyly.  

Lei Jin wasn’t obtuse. He understood now—especially since he’d heard the rumors. It was like avoiding the word “cripple” in front of someone who couldn’t walk or “blind” before those who couldn’t see. The more people tiptoed around it, the more it emphasized their discomfort.  

The pressure Xiya and Moya faced in the tribe was palpable.  

“Let’s go. I’ve packed everything. Traded for plenty of beans, just like you wanted,” Xiya said casually to Lei Jin.  

Lei Jin was about to reply when he felt a faint movement in his belly. Startled, he pressed a hand to it.  

“Stomachache?”  

“I think… I felt it move.” But now there was nothing again.  

“Father said Healer Qing Qiao’s medicine wasn’t an abortifacient—it was to stabilize the pregnancy. The baby should still be fine.” Despite his reluctance, he said it anyway.  

Before Lei Jin could respond, trouble arrived. Jia Nuo pushed through the crowd, dragging a male werebeast by the arm. Brushing past Lei Jin, he eagerly took Yaxi’s hands.  

“Brother Yaxi, congratulations! You’re going to be a papa again. Good thing you chose Ivey back then—who knows where you’d be now? Unlike some people who’ll never have children. Who knows what the real reason is?”  

Jia Nuo had confronted Lei Jin before. Though Xiya hadn’t reacted at the time, he’d later given Jia Nuo a stern warning—no mercy shown. That made Jia Nuo realize any hope with Xiya was gone. Even his doting father had scolded him for stirring trouble. All of this caused resentment to fester. Seeing Lei Jin surrounded and admired today only fueled his bitterness. Now, spotting the pregnant Yaxi, an idea struck.  

Ivey’s face darkened as he pulled Yaxi’s hand back. Everyone knew Yaxi had once liked Moya—the tribe was small, after all. But that was in the past. Why bring it up now?  

Others caught the insinuation. Eyes flickered between Lei Jin and Xiya’s family. Whispers spread.  That’s right, they only heard that Lei Jin was infertile, but who knew what the real truth was. Maybe it was actually Xiya and his brothers’ problem.

Xiya smirked lazily and stepped slightly in front of Lei Jin. “Yeah, like how some people have pretty faces but keep doing disgusting things. I wonder why? Maybe because no one wants them.” Xiya didn’t want to quarrel with a female, so in the past he always made his warnings in private, but Jia Nuo seemed to have become more and more bold. 

Someone in the crowd snickered.  

Jia Nuo’s face flushed with rage.  

“Ivey, Yaxi—congratulations.” Moya took Lei Jin’s hand, expression calm.  

Yaxi blinked, then smiled. “Thank you, Moya.” This was the first time Moya had spoken to him in years. Only now did Yaxi truly feel like he had put down the past.  

Ivey nodded in acknowledgment.  

Seeing his plan backfire, Jia Nuo forced a stiff smile and turned to Lei Jin. “Lei Jin, you’ve gained weight. Could you be pregnant too?”  

The crowd tensed. First, Jia Nuo spread rumors about Lei Jin’s infertility, then implied it was the brothers’ fault. Now he was stomping on their sore spots. It was downright cruel.  

Lei Jin saw the glint of triumph in Jia Nuo’s eyes and rage suddenly filled him.  

“Ignore him,” Moya said.  

“Yeah, forget him,” Xiya scoffed.  

“Mingya doesn’t like him. He’s too annoying.”  

Hearing their attempts to comfort him, Lei Jin’s eyes stung. He smiled faintly, released Moya’s hand, and stepped forward. He gave Jia Nuo a once-over with a sweep of his eyes.

“Sorry, but I’ve always preferred keeping a low profile. I hate flaunting trivial matters. But since you asked—yes, I am. Almost six months along.”  

Never had Lei Jin been so grateful for the life inside him. I’m still here, and you dare bully my people? Whether he stayed or left, he’d protect them while he could.  

His tone was downright arrogant.  

“I don’t believe it! I heard Moya and Qi Luo say—”  

“Since when do I need your belief to have a baby? Who are you to me? Or is there some tribal rule that says if Jia Nuo doesn’t believe it, I can’t be pregnant? Xiya?” Lei Jin’s talent for provocation was well-honed.  

Xiya, named, stifled a grin and coughed solemnly. “I’ve never heard of such a rule. Maybe it’s new. Anyone else know about this?” He scanned the crowd.  

People shook their heads, barely containing their laughter.  

“They’ve never heard of it, Lei Jin.”  

Lei Jin had to admit—when it came to messing with people, he and Xiya were a perfect match.  

Jia Nuo was speechless with fury. He lunged forward, but the werebeast beside him quickly dragged him away. With those three around, he stood no chance.  

Lei Jin knew engaging with Jia Nuo was beneath him, but if it bought peace, it was worth it. Brats needed setbacks to grow.  

Once the crowd dispersed, Moya approached, hesitant. “Lei Jin, are you…?” He didn’t dare hope—what if this was just a momentary impulse?  

Lei Jin nodded faintly. “En.”  

If this child was unavoidable, if it meant Xiya and the others could live happier lives—then perhaps it was the only repayment he could offer for their unrequited love.  

The gloomy atmosphere at home lifted instantly. Xiya and Moya’s joy was unmistakable—their steps lighter, their faces brighter.  

“Are you really sure?” Roger helped Lei Jin soak a large bag of beans in a wooden basin.  

“En.”  

“Then rest more. Why keep running around like this?” Since that day, Lei Jin had been frantic, refusing to let himself idle.  

“I’ve been taking the medicine.” The pregnancy-stabilizing herbs from Healer Qing Qiao.  

“What are you planning now?” Earlier, Lei Jin had commissioned someone to grind wheat, corn, and rice flour. Now he was soaking beans.  

“Trying to make tofu and bean curd. When the baby’s born, there’ll be soy milk too. Homemade soy milk has a lot of residue—you’ll need to filter it multiple times.” Lei Jin’s tone was casual as he added more water to the basin. No one knew how much his chest ached. This was his first child—perhaps his only one.  

In this world, a year had eighteen months of twenty days each, divided into four distinct seasons, plus a forty-five-day sacrificial month at year’s end—totaling three hundred sixty-five days. But the plains tribes preferred simply distinguishing between dry and rainy seasons. Winter was approaching. Even if the baby was a female, it would be born before the sacrificial month.  

Roger had said that during the sacrificial month, the tribe held a grand ceremony. That would be the best time to leave.  

“Don’t worry. Even if those three find new partners someday, they’ll still cherish this child. And so will I. I’d never mistreat them.”  

“En. That’s a relief.” Lei Jin racked his brain for anything else he could leave behind to ensure the baby’s future happiness. But the more he thought, the more he realized how little he truly had to offer.  

In the end, he’d made the same choice as that woman—coldly, cruelly abandoning his own child. What right did he have to condemn her? They were the same. No difference at all.  

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

At dinner, Lei Jin mentioned wanting to visit the seaside salt flats to collect brine for making tofu. Mingya eagerly volunteered to fly him there.  

Berg’s eyes lit up at the mention of the sea.  

It was just that Lei Jin never expected to run into an old acquaintance there—though they’d only met once, it still counted, right?

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A few days passed in restlessness and unease, yet Lei Jin’s belly showed no adverse reactions. Instead, it felt comfortably warm. He began to suspect that the medicine Healer Qing Qiao had given him was ineffective. But at this moment, he didn’t feel like digging into the truth. Xiya and the others were still absent—Roger mentioned they were helping distribute the tribe’s harvest. With crops ripening one after another, the werebeasts of each household had been busy assisting. Now, everything was being allocated family by family to ensure ample food before winter arrived.  

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

Berg carried Bubbles out for breakfast.  

Lei Jin glanced up and greeted them before lowering his head again, listlessly pushing the food around in his bowl. He had no appetite.  

“Bubbles seems a bit listless these past couple of days,” Roger remarked, having already finished his meal. He took the child from Berg so the latter could eat.  

Seated beside Roger, Lei Jin took a closer look at Bubbles. The little one did seem unusually lethargic.  

“Maybe it’s the cold weather making him sluggish.” That was one explanation, but Berg knew the real reason. Merfolk were born to live in the sea. Though adults like him could move freely on land, they still preferred the boundless freedom of the ocean. For a child as young as Bubbles, the sea was the most suitable environment. Even though he often soaked in water here, it wasn’t the same as the vast ocean.  

“Bubbles.” Lei Jin stroked the child’s forehead and called his name softly.  

Bubbles perked up slightly, eyelids drooping as he nuzzled affectionately into Lei Jin’s palm.  

“He’s so attached to you. Here, you hold him. I’ll fetch the fish soup from the pot.” Roger chuckled and passed Bubbles to Lei Jin.  

Having held the child countless times, Lei Jin cradled him deftly—one hand supporting his neck, the other under his bottom.  

“Yaa yaa!” Bubbles’s tiny arms flailed, landing a light pat on Lei Jin’s belly.  

“Bubbles, behave.” Berg hastily swallowed a few more bites before reaching out. “Give him back to me. This child is too unruly.” Despite his words, his face was full of undisguised pride and doting affection.  

“It’s fine. I’ll hold him for a bit. How much trouble can such a little one cause?” Lei Jin brushed it off.  

“I’m worried he’ll hurt the one in your belly.” Berg rolled his eyes dramatically. A few days ago, Lei Jin had been adamant about aborting the baby, but now he seemed calmer, so Berg spoke without restraint.  

Lei Jin’s smile froze.  

Roger returned with the fish soup and set it on the table. Gently patting Lei Jin’s arm, he said, “Hand Bubbles to me. He hasn’t eaten yet, and the soup will get cold.”  

“Yaa yaa!” Just as Lei Jin was about to pass him over, Bubbles clutched his shirt tightly, tears welling in his eyes.  

A sharp pang struck Lei Jin’s heart. If his own child were born, would they be as adorable as Bubbles? Would they cling to him with such wholehearted dependence? Would they be reluctant to let him go? But all these “what ifs” were meaningless now—because that night, after much hesitation, he had drunk the medicine. Call him heartless, call him cruel—he simply couldn’t trade his future for this child.  

Though the baby was still inside him, he hadn’t felt any movement in days.  

“Lei Jin, what’s wrong?” Berg asked nervously, noticing his sudden change in expression. Had he misspoken?  

“Nothing. Here’s your son back.” Lei Jin soothed Bubbles briefly before firmly depositing the fussing child into Berg’s arms and standing abruptly.  

“Where are you going?” Roger rose as well. Before leaving, Xiya had mentioned that Lei Jin had taken the abortifacient two days prior and needed someone with him at all times.  

“Out for a walk.” Lei Jin waved dismissively, signaling he didn’t need company.  

“Wait for me. I’ll come too.” Roger pushed the fish soup toward Berg. “Feed Bubbles. I’m going out with Lei Jin.”  

“Okay.” Berg picked up the spoon, watching curiously as Roger hurried after Lei Jin. Lei Jin’s pregnant, but does he really need to be watched so closely?

“What? Afraid I’ll run off? Keeping an eye on me for Xiya and the others?” Lei Jin smirked as Roger caught up.  

Roger frowned. “You know that’s not it. Why make such jokes? Haven’t they conceded enough?” He understood Lei Jin’s perspective, but as a father, he couldn’t remain indifferent to his children’s pain.  

“Conceded? If not for them, there wouldn’t be this child. Why shouldn’t they concede?”  

“I won’t argue. Where do you want to go? I’ll walk with you.” The moods of expectant parents were unpredictable—words often didn’t reflect true feelings. And Lei Jin’s heart was undoubtedly tangled in contradictions.  

“Nowhere in particular.” He’d just felt stifled indoors and needed air.  

“Let’s visit the fields, then.” Roger remembered Lei Jin’s interest in the crops. Now that harvest was done, he could pick what he liked. If necessary, they could trade their family’s share for others’.  

“Fine.” Lei Jin shrugged.  

The temple stood at the tribe’s center, its towering form visible from every street, shrouded in unsolved mysteries—bizarre stone statues, enigmatic symbols, a celestial map of the stars.  

“Roger, do you regret coming to this world?” Lei Jin asked suddenly.  

“Yes.” Roger answered without hesitation.  

Lei Jin arched a brow in surprise.  

“What, did you think I came here willingly?” Roger countered.  

“Not exactly. But I assumed you wouldn’t regret it now.” To him, Roger seemed to have accepted this life, despite lingering unresolved conflicts. At the very least, he shouldn’t still be thinking of leaving.  

“I regret coming here, but not staying.”  

A yellow-winged butterfly with red spots fluttered past them.  

“You’ve lost me.” Did educated people always have to speak in riddles?  

“Lei Jin, what did you do before?” This was Roger’s first time asking. He’d never seen the need—in this world, the past was meant to be discarded.  

“Led a bunch of good brothers to scrape by.”  

Though Lei Jin’s words were vague, Roger understood. He wasn’t particularly surprised. Even without knowing the details, he’d sensed Lei Jin was no ordinary office worker. His personality was too unrestrained, too fiercely independent.  

“I used to be an archaeologist,” Roger offered casually.  

That caught Lei Jin off guard.  

“My father was a renowned paleontologist. From childhood, I aspired to be as accomplished as him—though I chose archaeology.” Roger gazed distantly at the sky, as if peering into memories.  

“How did you end up here?” Lei Jin was keenly interested. Perhaps finding commonalities would reveal a way home.  

“Years ago, we discovered a mysterious ruin—unlike any known civilization. No written language, just simple symbols. The surviving murals depicted people who could shift between human and beast forms. I found a black stone there, a ring shape. One rainy day, I took shelter in the ruins. When the rain stopped, I stepped out… and was here.”  

“A black stone too?” This confirmed Lei Jin’s suspicions. If the stone was the key to arriving here, it must also be the way back. Whether it would work or not, he needed to reclaim those two fragments from Xiya and Mingya. Though incomplete, they might form a ring when combined.  

“What about you?” Roger asked.  

“Mine’s even more absurd. I took a bath, stepped out, and ended up here—without even time to get dressed.” The memory irked him. At least let me grab some clothes for fuck’s sake. 

“Lei Jin, do you ever feel… none of this is real? That one day we’ll wake up and find it was all a long dream? That everyone here was just passing through our subconscious, never truly existing?”  

Lei Jin broke out in a cold sweat at the eerie thought. Not real? A dream? He shook Roger’s shoulders. “Roger, what kind of dream are you having? Wake up!”  

A dream? Then what was this bulging belly of his?  

Roger pushed his hands away. “It’s just a feeling.”  

“You’ve got too much free time if you’re fantasizing like this.” Lei Jin shot him a look.  

How could those three—who had played such significant roles in his life—simply not exist? He disliked that notion intensely. Even now, he had to admit that though his feelings toward each of them differed, they all occupied substantial space in his heart. But did that mean he had to bear their children? Lei Jin asked himself, but no clear answer came.  

As they talked and walked, they unknowingly arrived at the tribe’s fields.  

Most of the crops had already been distributed, leaving only the wheat still being threshed. On a compacted patch of ground, werebeasts pulled stone rollers over thick layers of spread-out wheat.  

Nearly every household in the tribe had sent people—at least a few hundred—but the open space kept it from feeling crowded. Each family received modest but well-rounded portions of the harvest. However, preferences varied—some wanted certain crops while others disliked them—so groups formed to negotiate exchanges.  

Lei Jin noticed that beans and chili peppers were the least popular. Almost every family wanted to trade them away—except Xiya’s household, who knew Lei Jin could cook them well and held onto theirs.  

“They only eat chili peppers in cold weather to warm up, and they don’t use much normally. As for beans, no one likes them—they take forever to cook and still taste terrible,” Roger explained from the side.  

“We still have plenty of potatoes at home, right?” Lei Jin suddenly asked.  

“Yeah. Our garden isn’t big, but the yield is decent.”  

“Let’s trade our potatoes for their beans.” He noticed potatoes and sweet potatoes were quite popular, probably because they could be eaten as staple food.  

“Sure. Let’s go talk to Xiya and the others.” Roger knew Lei Jin must have his reasons.  

As soon as they approached—  

“Lei Jin, you came? Are you dressed warmly enough?” Mingya bounded over cheerfully, clasping Lei Jin’s hands between his own and rubbing them gently. No one had told him about Lei Jin drinking the abortifacient.  

Lei Jin’s mood soured—even Mingya was taller than him now—but he didn’t bother stopping the boy’s affectionate gestures in public.  

Moya watched them approach with a faint smile, though the shadows in his eyes were impossible for Lei Jin to ignore.  

Someone was asking Xiya about trading goods, but he still managed to turn and greet them.  

Roger went over and spoke a few words to Xiya, who nodded. Soon, a man eagerly traded a large half-bag of beans for a small pile of potatoes.  

Seeing this, others rushed to ask for similar trades. By the end, their family’s potato pile had been exchanged for three full bags of beans.  

Just then, the tribal chief, An Bu, walked over. Frowning at the amount of beans they’d acquired, he asked, “Beans aren’t filling. Why trade for so many? I’ve got extra potatoes—take some from me later.”  

“No need, Uncle An Bu. We have enough food at home,” Xiya declined with a smile.  

An Bu sighed at the chaotic scene. “Every year at this time, it’s a mess. Some families want this, others hate that—but we can’t distribute based on preferences alone. It’d take forever.”  

“Then why not assign each family their own plot and let them grow what they want?” Lei Jin suggested after a moment’s thought.  

“That won’t work. Some elders and injured tribesmen can’t farm. We can’t abandon them.”  

“Families who farm could contribute a portion to the tribe each year, which could then be distributed to those in need. It’s not an unsolvable problem.”  

An Bu nodded thoughtfully but hesitated. “The tribe’s collective farming doesn’t yield much as it is. If each family farms alone, with less manpower, wouldn’t production drop even more? What if food runs short?”  

Lei Jin glanced at Roger, but seeing he wasn’t in the mood to speak, took over. “Actually, there’s no need to burn new fields every year. Many families keep live prey they haven’t eaten yet, right? Manure and wheat straw can be spread as fertilizer. Fertile land yields more.”  

“That’s possible? Those things are easy to get—every household has them!” someone nearby exclaimed excitedly.  

“And different crops can be planted in rotation.”  

Noticing the crowd’s confusion, Lei Jin gave an example: “For instance, we could plant wheat now and harvest it shortly after next year’s rainy season. Then we could plant sweet potatoes and potatoes right after—wouldn’t that mean two harvests a year?”  

“But won’t the wheat freeze when it gets colder soon?” People pressed closer to hear Lei Jin’s ideas.  

“It shouldn’t.” Lei Jin reasoned that since autumn here was long, winter probably wouldn’t be too harsh. Wheat should survive—but he couldn’t guarantee it outright. Failure would be disastrous, so he added, “We could try a small batch this year.”  

The crowd nodded, agreeing it was a safer approach.  

Xiya watched Lei Jin, lively and confident as he spoke to the crowd, and thought, this is the real Lei Jin—free and spirited. If he didn’t want the baby, why force him? But their unborn child…  

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

“What medicine did you give him?” Roger asked, standing outside the crowd while Mingya stuck close to Lei Jin.  

“White tea flowers from the poolside. I picked them myself,” Moya answered. Though he was puzzled—Healer Qing Qiao had said the abortion would happen within two days of drinking it. Why was there still no movement? Not that he was hoping for it.  

Roger was speechless. Qing Qiao’s mischievous streak really never changes.

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Lei Jin subconsciously covered his stomach—this was the first time he had so clearly acknowledged the fact that there was a child inside him.  

If he said he had never doubted it before, that would be a lie. After all, Healer Qing Qiao’s words that day still echoed in his ears, and his growing belly was undeniable. Not to mention, Xiya and Moya had been acting overly cautious lately—forbidding him from touching anything cold, always placing the best food in front of him, and layering his clothes thickly before the real cold even set in, as if afraid the wind might chill him. No matter how much they tried to disguise it as casual concern, Lei Jin had seen all kinds of people in his life. How could he not notice such obvious tactics? 

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

But with Chunji gone, he had no one to talk to. He was a grown man who had never been pregnant before—how could he be sure what pregnancy was really like? Though anxious, he could only pretend to go with the flow and wait.  

As for Berg and Roger—it wasn’t that they weren’t trustworthy, but he simply didn’t believe them. One was Xiya and Moya’s papa, and the other had once had feelings for Moya.  

He had already suspected it, so when Mingya mentioned it, he believed it immediately. Now that Moya had openly admitted it, there was no room for illusions.  

“How many months?” Lei Jin asked, finding the question absurd. He was the last to know about the child in his own body.  

“Almost six months,” Moya replied, glancing at him.  

He didn’t even bother asking whose it was. Counting back, six months could only mean that reckless afternoon in the seaside cave.  

Lei Jin pushed the blanket aside and got out of bed. The pain in his lower half made his steps unsteady, and Moya quickly steadied him. “The floor is covered in spilled medicine. Be careful not to slip.”  

Lei Jin shook him off and went to fetch his clothes from the cabinet. Lifting his legs to put on his pants sent a dull, tearing pain through him, and for the first time, he understood how Berg must have felt back then.  

It wasn’t even deep autumn yet, but he was already dressed in winter clothes. Su Rui’s sewing skills were excellent—though the thread was coarse, the stitches were tight, and the fit was perfect. The material resembled mink fur, glossy and black, lined with soft cotton. When Qi Luo had delivered the clothes, Mura had been there and exclaimed how wasteful it was—such fine cotton could have made several summer outfits.  

“Eat first. We can talk after,” Moya said, seeing Lei Jin about to walk out.  

Lei Jin ignored him and kept walking.  

Xiya came in from outside and, seeing Lei Jin, naturally reached to touch his forehead. “Finally awake! You slept a full day and night—we were all worried. Let me check if the fever’s gone.”  

Lei Jin slapped his hand away without a word and stepped past him toward the door.  

Xiya shot Moya a questioning look: What’s going on?

Moya didn’t answer, only hurried to stop Lei Jin at the threshold. “You haven’t eaten in a day. Where are you going? I know you’re angry we didn’t tell you sooner, but at first, we weren’t sure. It wasn’t until the baby was three or four months along that Healer Qing Qiao confirmed it. By then, the baby was already big, and you were injured. If we had aborted it then, your body wouldn’t have been able to handle it.”  

Xiya finally understood what was happening. The child had been in Lei Jin’s belly all along—they never expected to hide it forever. Seeing Lei Jin’s disbelief, he added, “Moya’s telling the truth. Healer Qing Qiao told me the same thing. I knew if I told you, you’d abort the baby no matter the cost, so I kept it from you. The fault is mine. If you’re angry, blame me.”  

“Eat something first. The food’s getting cold. After that, I won’t stop you from doing whatever you want.” He had a vague idea of what Lei Jin intended, but at this point, he no longer hoped for easy forgiveness.  

“Lei Jin, the chicken is really good today. Mingya saved the wings for you. Eat with me?” Mingya tugged timidly at Lei Jin’s sleeve.  

“So, you’re all acting like you’ve been considerate of me, and I’m the unreasonable one, risking my own health?” Lei Jin sneered. “I suppose I should just lie back, spread my legs, let you all take turns, and then pop out babies for you—that’s the right way, huh?”  

He knew his words were cruel, but he couldn’t stop them. His chest felt suffocated. Maybe Moya was telling the truth, but these people had deceived him over and over. Did “love” give them the right to control his life? He believed they cared about his health, but he didn’t believe they weren’t also using this to trap him.  

Staying in this world suited them—but had they ever considered the price he would pay? Living in a completely unfamiliar world, dependent on others for survival, was never what he wanted. And now, he was neither man nor woman, pregnant like some freak. He hated the sight of his swollen belly and punched it hard.  

“Don’t do that, Lei Jin.” Moya caught his wrist before he could strike again.  

Lei Jin backhanded him across the face, his gaze icy. “I won’t forgive you this time. You want this child—but did you ever think about my feelings?”  

Moya wiped the blood from his lip. “I know.”  

“I won’t give birth to it.” Lei Jin’s voice was merciless. He might have said he liked children, but he never said he wanted to bear them.  

“I’ll go to Healer Qing Qiao for the abortifacient. You’re still injured—you can’t walk that far.”  

“Second Brother?”  

“Moya!”  

“Forget it, Elder Brother.” Moya’s voice was flat.  

A storm of emotions crossed Xiya’s face—struggle, conflict—but in the end, he yielded. He understood Moya’s meaning. They had already prepared for a childless life—this was just feeling the loss again. But it was different now. He had felt the baby move against his palm at night, a tiny life. To kill it with his own hands—he didn’t want to accept it. But Lei Jin’s stance left no room for negotiation. The one carrying the child was Lei Jin. If he refused, who could force him?  

“Lei Jin, don’t you like the baby? Did it disobey you? But even a disobedient baby is still our baby. We can’t abandon it.” Mingya tugged at his hair, whispering.  

“Shut up!” Lei Jin snapped.  

Mingya bit his lip, peeking at him fearfully before falling silent.  

After a long pause, Xiya finally nodded. Lei Jin knew the matter was settled, but he felt no relief.  

Moya went to fetch Healer Qing Qiao, while Xiya reheated the meal—a large bowl of mushroom soup, a whole stewed chicken, and two bowls of rice.  

“Lei Jin, here are the wings.” Mingya dutifully plucked both chicken wings and placed them in Lei Jin’s bowl.  

Before Lei Jin arrived, the wings had always been Mingya’s favorite. But since then, Mingya had given them up—because Lei Jin liked them too.  

“Drink the soup first. You said you wanted it the other day. It’ll be good for you after just waking up.” Xiya pushed the soup toward him.  

Neither spoke after that, but Lei Jin could feel Xiya’s gaze lingering on his belly—full of sorrow and reluctance.  

He knew how much Xiya and Moya wanted a child. Looking back, they had dropped countless hints over the past months, but he had chosen to ignore them.  

Healer Qing Qiao arrived quickly, sweating and disheveled. He fixed Lei Jin with a stern look. “I heard you want to abort the baby?”  

Lei Jin wiped his mouth leisurely and stood, nodding in silent confirmation.  

“Do you know how hard it is for other families in the tribe to conceive? How can you just throw it away?” As a fellow female, Qing Qiao couldn’t fathom such ruthlessness.  

Lei Jin remained standing, but the resolve in his eyes was unmistakable. It was hard to believe such sharp, unyielding determination belonged to a female—and how could such a person ever resign himself to childbirth?  

“And you three agree?” Qing Qiao scanned them.  

“We’re still young, just adults. There’ll be other chances for children later,” Xiya spoke for them.  

Qing Qiao saw through the lie. Young? Just adults? Other chances? Nonsense. The truth was Lei Jin didn’t want it. It seemed An Sen’s household had once been ruled by Roger, and now Xiya’s home would be ruled by Lei Jin. Who would’ve thought? He had delivered these boys himself and watched them grow. Mingya might be soft, but Xiya and Moya had always been strong-willed. Yet Lei Jin had somehow tamed all three.  

“No need for medicine,” Qing Qiao said, addressing only Lei Jin.  

Lei Jin frowned. “Why?” Was there another way?  

“Didn’t Xiya tell you?”  

Lei Jin turned to Xiya—more secrets?  

“Let me explain,” Qing Qiao cut in before Xiya could speak. “Didn’t you wonder why, at two months, there was still no pulse?”  

That was something Lei Jin wanted to know. If he had known earlier, maybe…  

“I heard you were badly injured during the hunt. You conceived on the journey back—the jostling damaged the fetus early on. Then you ate the wrong thing and soaked in hot springs. That’s why there were no signs for so long. These past months, your body finally recovered somewhat, but then you were injured again two days ago. I’ve told Xiya—this child’s chances of surviving birth are slim. Even if it lives, it’ll be weaker than most. But Xiya refused to accept it. Now, at six months, aborting it would severely harm you. Even if it’s a female baby, just endure three more months—it’ll likely be stillborn anyway.”  

Lei Jin shook his head. He couldn’t wait that long. Suppressing his unease, he insisted, “No. I want it gone now.”  

“Why are you so stubborn?” Even the mild-mannered Qing Qiao lost his temper. Was this man so eager to destroy his own child, denying it even a chance at birth?  

“Healer Qing Qiao, don’t be mad at Lei Jin,” Mingya pleaded pitifully.  

Qing Qiao shot him a look. Hopeless. Still defending him at a time like this.  

“Healer Qing Qiao, give us the medicine,” Moya said, glancing at Lei Jin.  

“That’s your child.”  

“We’ll have others,” Xiya said, clinging to that hope.  

“There is no such medicine. When have you ever heard of our tribe aborting a child? Do you think we’d keep that around?” Qing Qiao refused outright.  

“Healer Qing Qiao, I know it exists,” Xiya said, checking Moya’s expression before adding, “My papa mentioned it.”  

“You—!” Qing Qiao was too furious to speak. Finally, he spat out, “Fine. If you’re so determined to kill it, I won’t stop you. Just don’t regret it later. There’s a deep pool in the back mountains—you know the one. White tea flowers grow by its edge. Boil ten blossoms into one bowl of water. It’ll induce miscarriage within two days.”  

Roger, having caught wind of the situation, arrived just as Qing Qiao was leaving.  

“Healer Qing Qiao—”  

Qing Qiao shot him a glare and stormed off without a word.  

At this point, Roger was the least qualified to persuade Lei Jin. He understood Lei Jin’s determination to leave. Lei Jin was far more decisive than he had ever been. If he had possessed even half that resolve twenty years ago, maybe he would have returned home. But he had made his choice—regretful, but unchangeable. He only hoped Lei Jin wouldn’t come to regret his.  

“Whatever you decide, healing your injuries comes first,” Roger said meaningfully.  

Moya personally gathered and brewed the white tea flowers. Through it all, he never tried to dissuade Lei Jin again.  

Night deepened, and none of the three returned. By evening, the bowl of medicine Moya had left on the windowsill had gone cold.  

Lei Jin tightened his clothes around him. The empty room felt unnaturally lonely.  

“Xiao Jin, sit here and be good. Mommy will be back soon.”  

He had been good. But in the end, he was still discarded—like an old, unwanted coat. No reluctance, no attachment. Maybe that woman had seen him as nothing but a burden.  

“Baby, it’s not that Dad doesn’t want you. But… wouldn’t it be better not to come at all, than to leave you alone in this world someday?”  

Lei Jin reached for the cold bowl of medicine.  

When Moya returned the next morning and saw the empty bowl on the windowsill, even prepared as he was, profound agony flashed in his eyes.  

Meanwhile, across the sea…  

“Are you sure?”  

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“Not entirely. But from your description, it sounds like the person who followed the leopard werebeasts. They passed through our Wolf Tribe once and stayed the night.”  

“Heh… It must be him. I heard from his clan—he was obsessed with a leopard werebeast, even forced him into a bonding ceremony. So that’s where he’s been all this time? Chasing after him to his tribe? Hmph. Berg, you’ll never escape me.”

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Moya didn’t have time to explain further. In his haste, he dropped that vague reply and carried Lei Jin into the house.  

Berg didn’t catch much, but he heard the words “baby in the belly” loud and clear. Whose belly? Certainly not Moya’s—it had to be Lei Jin’s. He had noticed Lei Jin’s gradual weight gain but never dared entertain the thought. After all, if he guessed wrong, it would only lead to disappointment. Now, it seemed there really was a baby. But before he could feel joy, he spotted the blood on the ground and hurried after them, asking urgently, “What’s wrong with Lei Jin? Didn’t he go to see Mingya? What exactly happened?” 

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In his panic, Berg’s voice rose slightly. Roger, resting in the west room, faintly heard Mingya’s name mentioned and couldn’t stay lying down. An Sen had to hold him back, preventing him from getting up, and signaled An Luo to go check.  

An Luo nodded silently and stepped out, just as Moya rushed in. Before he could speak, Moya quickly said, “Youngest Brother is fine. He’ll be back by evening.”  

An Luo noticed something was terribly wrong with Lei Jin in Moya’s arms—his face was deathly pale, and he was trembling uncontrollably. He wanted to ask more, but seeing Moya’s anxious expression, he decided not to delay them and returned to relay the news about Mingya to Roger.  

“Berg, could you fetch a basin of warm water from the kitchen?” Moya requested.  

Hearing that Mingya was fine, Roger’s expression eased. His illness had been caused by excessive worry over Mingya, leading to loss of appetite and a weakened body. Now that he knew Mingya was safe, his burden lifted, and he recovered half his strength. An Luo fed him a large bowl of black fish soup, and Roger soon looked much more energetic.  

Seeing him regaining his strength, An Luo hesitated briefly before deciding to tell Roger about Lei Jin’s condition. Firstly, he had smelled the heavy scent of blood on Lei Jin and knew the injuries were likely severe. But as fathers, they couldn’t inspect their son’s partner’s wounds themselves. Secondly, though Roger never said it aloud, he held Lei Jin in high regard. If something serious happened to Lei Jin and An Luo hid it, Roger would never forgive him. So despite Roger’s still-fragile condition, he told the truth.  

When Roger had returned home earlier, he’d been too dazed to realize Lei Jin had gone to see Mingya. Now, he couldn’t fathom how Lei Jin had gotten hurt. From what Roger had observed, no one in the tribe could easily overpower Lei Jin—even six months pregnant. And male werebeasts, knowing Lei Jin already had mates, wouldn’t dare harass or attack him. Though these thoughts flashed through Roger’s mind in an instant, he had no time to analyze them further.  

By the time Roger arrived, Moya was carefully wiping Lei Jin’s body. As he approached, the sight of the red and white sticky traces beneath Lei Jin made Roger gasp sharply. “What happened, Moya?” he asked gravely. What he really wanted to ask was who had done this, but seeing Lei Jin’s pained frown, he rephrased.  

In truth, Lei Jin was too dazed, struggling against the relentless pain in his lower abdomen, to pay attention to anything else. He only flinched slightly when Moya accidentally touched the wounds on his backside.  

“The old priest sent word that Mingya was dying, so Lei Jin went to him.”  

Moya gently massaged Lei Jin’s belly, speaking softly, “Does it still hurt? The healer will be here soon. Hold on a little longer. I’ll help you expel what’s inside, and then we’ll treat the wounds.”  

Upon examination, Moya found tearing. Though not severe, such a sensitive area must have been excruciating.  

Hearing this, Roger understood everything. Judging by Lei Jin’s injuries, he knew Mingya—even in his unaware state—had instinctively been mindful of Lei Jin’s condition. Still, he couldn’t help but resent his youngest son for his lack of restraint, which had hurt Lei Jin so badly.  

Berg brought in another basin of clean water. Moya murmured comforting words as he carefully inserted a finger. Lei Jin shuddered and mumbled a plea in his half-conscious state: “I’m tired, Mingya.”  

Moya’s heart ached unbearably. He had always vowed to protect Lei Jin, yet time and again, he watched him get hurt. What more could he do to truly shield him from harm?  

Roger sighed inwardly and patted Moya’s head.  

“I’m fine, Father.”  

Knowing this wasn’t the time to wallow, Moya forced himself to stay strong and whispered to Lei Jin, “If you’re tired, sleep a little. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”  

“Moya?” Lei Jin seemed to regain some clarity, recognizing Moya’s voice.  

“En, I’m here.” Moya squeezed his hand reassuringly.  

“Moya?” Lei Jin called again.  

“I’m right here.”  

“Moya… it hurts so much.” Lei Jin murmured weakly.  

Moya, who had been holding back tears, finally broke. This was the first time he’d ever heard Lei Jin admit weakness. Lei Jin was always strong and proud—if he said this, the pain must be unbearable.  

Though Roger stood by the bed, Lei Jin’s words were barely audible, so he didn’t catch them. Berg, standing farther away to give them privacy while Moya cleaned Lei Jin’s lower half, also missed it.  

They only saw Moya bury his face in Lei Jin’s neck, shoulders shaking violently. When he finally looked up, his eyes were red-rimmed. He forced a smile and said, “I know.”  

There was still plenty of the jade mugwort that Chunji had given Lei Jin back then. After cleaning him thoroughly, Moya applied the medicine. Thankfully, the bleeding had already stopped.  

Before arriving, Healer Qing Qiao had heard a bit from Xiya and prepared for the worst—possible signs of a miscarriage. But he also brought medicine to stabilize the pregnancy. Seeing the bleeding had stopped, he knew it wasn’t too severe—the baby was safe for now. Assuming the injuries were from Xiya and Moya’s youthful recklessness in bed, he scolded them harshly and forbade any intimacy for a month.  

Once he finished, Xiya asked, “Healer Qing Qiao, I’m worried his wounds might cause a fever tonight. Are there any herbs safe for pregnancy?” He remembered how Lei Jin had developed a low-grade fever just from being exposed to wind at the temple.  

“You’re right to worry. Pregnant individuals are prone to minor illnesses. Medicine should be avoided when possible, but if they’re sick, it can’t be helped.” Healer Qing Qiao listed a few herbs—common ones most werebeasts knew for emergencies during hunts.  

Xiya stayed with Lei Jin while Moya brewed a bowl of pregnancy-stabilizing medicine. Together, they carefully propped Lei Jin up and fed it to him. Seeing his tightly furrowed brows, they gave him some honey water. They took turns eating dinner, though neither had much appetite.  

Lei Jin desperately wanted to sleep, but someone nearby seemed determined to keep him awake—crying incessantly. He tried to treat it as background noise. Back in the bridge tunnels, he’d slept through trains rumbling overhead. But why did this person have to whisper his name between sobs? It wasn’t like he was dead yet. Finally, he snapped irritably, “Stop crying. Wait until I’m dead to mourn me.”  

Mingya immediately stopped, though hiccups lingered from his prolonged crying.  

Lei Jin rubbed his temples and wearily opened his eyes to see Mingya curled up on the floor beside the bed, face streaked with tears, looking utterly pitiful.  

“Lei Jin, you’re awake?” Mingya bit his lip, another hiccup escaping.  

“Come here.” Lei Jin sighed and beckoned.  

“Papa said Mingya’s a troublemaker and shouldn’t get close to you.” Mingya wiped his tears messily with the back of his hand, smearing his face.  

“Do you listen to me or your papa? If it’s me, come here. If it’s Roger, get out and stop bothering me.”  

Mingya thought for a moment and decided to obey Lei Jin. But his legs had gone numb from sitting on the floor, and he stood up too quickly, stumbling and nearly collapsing onto Lei Jin.  

“Stay back!” Even though Mingya wasn’t in beast form, Lei Jin’s eyes flashed with panic, and he instinctively pushed him away—though his weak arms barely had any strength.  

“I’m not feeling well. I don’t want you crushing me.” Seeing Mingya’s hurt expression, Lei Jin quickly added an excuse.  

The truth was, though he knew rationally that Mingya wasn’t entirely to blame, the psychological trauma of being with a leopard was too fresh. How could he treat its human form with the same trust as before? That familiar voice kept reminding him of what had happened in the temple—something he couldn’t erase.  

“Oh. Then Mingya will sit on the edge and won’t move.” Only Mingya would believe Lei Jin’s flimsy excuse.  

“En. Sit there, and we’ll talk.” Lei Jin pointed to a spot near the foot of the bed—not too close.  

Mingya stood, giving him a reluctant look, but obediently moved.  

“Didn’t you mature? Why are you still so small?” He remembered the leopard being quite large, but the human form seemed unchanged—still boyish, aside from a barely noticeable deepening of his voice.  

“Human forms wouldn’t have changed much. But Mingya grew taller!” Mingya stood to demonstrate.  

Without a reference point, it was hard to tell how much taller he’d gotten, but there did seem to be some growth. Lei Jin nodded.  

Mingya grinned sweetly and snuggled closer. “Mingya’s all grown up now. Mingya can take you flying!”  

Lei Jin stiffened but quickly forced a smile, patting Mingya’s cheek. “Go wash your face in the stream outside. You look like a mess.”  

“Lei Jin… do you not like Mingya anymore?” Mingya twisted his fingers, voice tiny.  

Mingya was sensitive. Though Lei Jin’s attitude shift wasn’t obvious, his words and actions carried a distance that hadn’t been there before.  

“I’m too tired to talk about this now.” Though Mingya was young, Lei Jin didn’t want to lie about feelings. His non-answer was as good as admitting he didn’t like him. But he overestimated Mingya’s comprehension—to Mingya, no outright rejection meant the affection remained. Both misunderstood each other.  

“Mingya knows he was wrong this time.” He didn’t dare admit that during the act, he’d been somewhat aware—but hadn’t wanted to stop, craving that closeness with Lei Jin.  

“Don’t do it again.” This was as close to forgiveness as he could offer. Since he was leaving soon, what else could he do? Kill the kid? Giving the silent treatment wouldn’t work on someone so oblivious to social cues.  

Mingya hesitated. He still wanted to be with Lei Jin. But seeing Lei Jin’s lips press into a thin line and his gaze turn cold, he guiltily whispered, “En. Mingya understands.”  

Lei Jin knew the promises of werebeasts were rarely reliable—the key was to stay vigilant. But since Mingya had agreed, he wouldn’t give him a chance to backtrack.  

“If you promise something, keep it. I hate liars.”  

Mingya’s ears twitched beneath his silver hair.  

“Lei Jin, the baby’s fine. Don’t worry.” Mingya agreed, his gaze dropping to Lei Jin’s stomach.  

“What did you say?” Lei Jin tried to sit up, but the movement sent pain radiating through his body—especially his lower half.  

“I said… the baby in your belly is fine.” Mingya blinked, noticing Lei Jin’s darkening expression.  

At that moment, Moya entered carrying an uncovered wooden box with several bowls. Seeing Lei Jin awake, he set it down and asked, “Are you feeling better now?”  

Lei Jin just stared at him, face blank.  

“What’s wrong?” Moya brought over a bowl of medicine, gesturing for Mingya to go eat at the table.  

“What is this?” Lei Jin eyed the dark liquid in Moya’s hand.  

Moya pressed his lips together calmly. “Pregnancy-stabilizing medicine.”  

“I didn’t hear you.” Though his tone was flat, his eyes were unreadable.  

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“Pregnancy-stabilizing medicine.” Whatever the outcome, he wouldn’t hide it anymore.  

Lei Jin knocked the bowl from Moya’s hands, meeting his gaze coldly. “No need. I never planned to keep it.”  

As if responding, the baby inside him kicked hard.

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“Youngest Brother, open the door, you will kill Lei Jin, open the door.” Moya’s eyes were bloodshot, and he banged on the door irrationally, trying to attract Mingya’s attention, because he clearly saw the liquid dripping from the stone table under Lei Jin. In addition to the sticky white release of the two, there was also a lot of blood. Mingya’s roughness undoubtedly meant that there was tearing, not to mention he had a child in his belly.

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But they didn’t dare to push the door down from the outside, because the stone table in the room was facing the stone door. If the stone door fell down, the two inside would be crushed to death if they couldn’t dodge in time.

“Mingya, I’m your eldest brother. Be obedient and let Lei Jin go first.” Xiya felt like he was going crazy. His papa had finally woken up but as soon as they got home, they heard Berg say that Lei Jin had entered the temple because of Mingya. He was afraid that something might happen to the two of them, so he rushed over. Who would have thought, something bad did indeed happen. Their little brother had just become an adult and was not fully aware of himself, and Lei Jin was six months pregnant and had difficulty moving. What should they do?

The old priest followed behind tremblingly, helpless. He had been knocked unconscious when Mingya slapped him out at the beginning. When he woke up, how could he not hear the sounds of intense intercourse inside? Thinking of going out to look for someone, he ran into Xiya and Moya.

Lei Jin’s legs were spread as wide as possible at this moment, hanging limply to the sides of the stone table. He was no longer fully conscious, everything in a daze. He fainted twice, but was awakened by the thing wedged in his body that stabbed deeper and deeper each time. His lower half was numb and had almost no feeling. Only his arms instinctively hugged the leopard on top of him as he begged for mercy and asked him to slow down.

The familiar voices of Moya and Xiya brought Lei Jin back to his senses. He forced open his heavy eyelids, and the first thing that caught his eye was Mingya’s leopard face. The blood-red color in his eyes had faded a lot, and azure blue and light red overlapped, which was indescribably weird. However, Lei Jin knew that this was still Mingya, and he was not very scared. It seemed that because someone came, Mingya’s emotions began to fluctuate violently again, and the most obvious result was that the thrusting came even harder.

“You are mine…you are mine…” Mingya said this every time he moved. It was as if he said it often enough, the person under him would be his.

“Mingya, I’m here, here.” Lei Jin pulled himself together a little. He vaguely knew that Mingya regarded him as his property and was afraid that the werebeasts outside would come in and snatch him away, which made him anxious.

“So good…” I really want to stay in this person’s body forever. It’s so warm. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this kind of warmth before.

“Mingya, I’m Lei Jin. Do you still recognize me? I’m Lei Jin. Think.” Lei Jin put his arms around Mingya’s neck and skillfully kneaded his back with his hands.

“We met in the jungle, do you remember? There was a very tall tree, and you were standing behind me…” He really didn’t have the energy to reminisce about the past, but if Mingya didn’t let go, the two of them would have to stay here in a stalemate.

Mingya’s motions gradually stopped and he looked confused.

“There was a dragon pig under the tree, and I was lying on the tree branch…” Lei Jin slowly induced him to recall the situation at that time. He marveled that his patience was getting better day by day. Even if he couldn’t be the mob boss when he returned, it would be good enough for him to apply for a position as a kindergarten teacher.

“What’s going on inside?” The old priest heard no movement from inside. Xiya and Moya were blocking the way in front, and he couldn’t see the situation inside, so he couldn’t help but ask. Moya didn’t turn back. Hearing this, he only said lightly: “Wait a moment.” He knew what Lei Jin wanted to do. The only way now was to have Mingya wake up by himself.

The enormous pain that werebeasts face when they reach adulthood stimulates the animal nature hidden in their bodies. During the period when they lose their minds, they do not recognize anyone. If they meet a werebeast at this time, they will fight to the death, and even females cannot escape the danger. That was why the werebeast coming-of-age ceremony in the tribe was set up in the most solid place in the temple, and the newly adult werebeasts would never be let out until sunset. When the sun sets, their minds would finally become clear.

It was just past noon now and the sun was shining brightly. No one could guarantee whether Mingya could wake up.

The two inside were still in a connected position. Recalling all the details of their time together in the jungle, Lei Jin realized that it was not actually a very happy time, but he still remembered it so clearly.

“We also grilled fish…”

“Lei Jin was not wearing any clothes at the time. That place was pink and tender, very pretty…” Mingya continued.

When Lei Jin heard him say this, he was so annoyed that he raised his hand and slapped him. Then he reacted and said in delighted surprise, “Mingya, are you really awake this time?”

He wasn’t lying to him again and try to continue what they were doing, was he you?

“Lei Jin, I’m Mingya…” The hot tears welling in his eyes, which had turned blue at some point, fell onto Lei Jin’s face.

Once confirmed, Lei Jin felt relieved, but gathered the little strength in his hands and smacked Mingya’s head, cursing, “Fuck, you little bastard, you almost killed me. Did you know that you forced me? You are so bold. If I don’t kill you today, my surname won’t be Lei.”

Mingya didn’t dare to dodge, but his body trembled when Lei Jin hit him hard. However, this tiny movement was clearly transmitted to Lei Jin, reminding both of them of their current position.

Lei Jin’s face turned suspiciously blue. He raised his knee and fiercely kneed Mingya’s soft abdomen. He smacked him again and said through gritted teeth, “You are still addicted being in there? Why aren’t you pulling out your thing?”

“Oh, oh…” Mingya agreed obediently and pulled with force.

It might be injured there. Lei Jin grimaced in pain and yelled, “Slow down, do you want to hurt me to death…”

Mingya obediently went in a little and then slowly moved outwards rubbing the inner wall.

Lei Jin yelled again: “How long do you want to delay?”

Mingya was in a panic and didn’t know what to do.

Lei Jin simply propped himself up with his arms and retreated. Although his inner walls were in great pain, he still subconsciously squeezed when Mingya was about to pull completely out. He cursed himself in his heart and forced himself to relax. With a wet sound, the two separated and a large amount of sticky white liquid with streaks of blood flowed out unhindered.

“Go open the door.” Seeing this, Lei Jin’s limbs stiffened. After a long while, he picked up the new clothes under him and wiped himself, then said to Mingya with a dark face.

The clothes originally on him were torn to shreds by Mingya, and Mingya’s new clothes had already been stained from being placed under the two of them. How were they going to get back like this? Besides, he had just used up all his strength, and now his vision was darkening and his stomach was aching badly.

“Eldest Brother, Second Brother, get out of the way, Mingya will break the door open.” While Lei Jin was worrying, Mingya had already smashed the door open with a loud bang.

Before the rubble at the door even fell, Moya had already run in, hugged Lei Jin in his arms, and asked anxiously: “What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?” As he spoke, his finger reached behind him.

“Still alive.” Lei Jin pulled the corners of his mouth, trying to give Moya a comforting smile. He held Moya’s hand and said, “Don’t touch it. It hurts a lot. I think it’s torn apart bit inside. Go home and apply some medicine.”

“Okay, let’s go home now.” Moya took off his tunic, wrapped it around Lei Jin, and held him horizontally in his arms.

At this time, Lei Jin didn’t care about his image anymore because he had no strength left. The familiar scent coming from Moya made him close his eyes with peace of mind.

“Second Brother…” Mingya called out anxiously.

Moya glanced at him calmly and said, “Stay here and go home when the sun sets.”

Mingya nodded and wanted to look at Lei Jin again, but he had already fallen asleep in his second brother’s arms, and all he could see was a head of messy black hair.

Moya carried Lei Jin out.

Xiya pressed their little brother’s head and poked his forehead hard twice, anxious and angry, but forced himself to calm down and said, “You, you, what can I say? Oh, forget it, I know I can’t blame you for this, but do you know? Lei Jin has a baby in his belly, it’s six months old, you’ve made such a mess, it’s hard to say whether he can keep it.”

“Lei Jin has a baby?” Mingya was very happy when he heard it, but after hearing what his eldest brother said, he was worried that the baby would be lost, so he sat on the ground in a daze, tears rolling down his face.

“Not necessarily yet. I have to go back quickly and ask Healer Qing Qiao to take a look. The rules of the tribe cannot be broken. You should listen to your second brother and wait here until sunset before going home.” Xiya didn’t have the mind to stay and comfort Mingya right now. Being at Lei Jin’s side was more important.

Taking another look at the bloodstains beside the stone table, Xiya’s heart began beating wildly. He hurriedly gave instructions and left.

The old priest looked at the broken stone door on the ground, and then at Mingya who was crying bitterly on the stone table. No matter how he looked at it, he felt that it was so strange. One must know, the tribe was afraid that the newly-adult werebeasts would lose their minds and rush out, so they built this heavy stone door specially. Two ordinary werebeasts could not break it open even if they worked together, but this newly-adult werebeast smashed it to pieces in one go. What kind of power was this? But the werebeast in front of him who was crying like a child did just that. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed it.

The old priest thought to himself, forget it, I’d better leave quickly, otherwise he will lose his mind, and his old bones can’t withstand his blow.

Halfway back home, Moya heard the person in his arms groaning in pain.

“Lei Jin, does it hurt there?”

“No, it’s my stomach. It feels heavy and painful…” Lei Jin clutched his stomach and said with pale lips.

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Moya felt the hand holding Lei Jin from underneath become sticky, and when he looked, it was covered in blood…

Berg was at the door, and when he saw Moya flying over with Lei Jin in his arms, he quickly stepped forward and asked, “What happened to Lei Jin?”

“The baby in his belly…”

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