Werebeast Gongs CH 104 The Baby’s Whereabouts
The night passed without incident. At dawn, the north wind howled across the river, carrying snowflakes as large as paper scraps. The temperature plummeted, and a thin layer of ice had already formed on the water's surface. The path ahead was obscured by the blizzard, so they stopped at a gentle section of the riverbank to eat before continuing.
Their journey east to the sea had been smooth, aided by favorable winds and currents. With Mingya rowing all night, they had already left the Leopard Tribe’s usual territory. Even if someone pursued them, the blizzard would make tracking nearly impossible.
Lei Jin carried the bamboo basket ashore while Mingya tied the raft to a large rock and followed. Lan Qi had been scarcely visible all night, but Lei Jin could sense his presence nearby. Sure enough, as soon as the two stepped onto the bank, Lan Qi emerged from the water—completely dry.
To avoid leaving traces, Lei Jin decided against lighting a fire. He pulled the basket forward, searching for the dried meat stored at the bottom. His fingers accidentally brushed against a leaf-wrapped bundle in the middle. The cold had made the outer layer brittle, and a few upeeled snow-white rock fruits tumbled out from the cracks.
Mingya craned his neck curiously. "So that’s where Second Brother hid the rest of the rock fruits."
Lei Jin’s fingers trembled imperceptibly. He lowered his head and continued digging out the dried meat.
After saying this, Mingya suddenly felt something was off. If Second Brother had hidden the rock fruits in the basket, did that mean he knew Lei Jin was leaving? But if he knew, why hadn’t he stopped him? Scratching his head, Mingya realized he didn’t understand Second Brother’s thoughts at all.
Lei Jin handed Mingya a handful of dried meat. "Eat up." He kept some for himself and passed the rest to Lan Qi.
Lan Qi shot him a sidelong glance before taking it. Talk about preferential treatment. But he had no right to complain—their relationship was what it was. Still, he couldn’t fathom this werebeast’s mindset. According to Berg, Lei Jin intended to leave for good, yet this werebeast insisted on escorting him. Did he not care at all? If it were Berg trying to run away, Lan Qi would chain him up without hesitation.
Mingya had just taken a bite when tears welled up in his eyes. He stuck out his tongue, fanning his mouth. "So spicy! So spicy!"
Lei Jin quickly scooped up a handful of clean snow from a nearby rock and fed it to him. Amused by Mingya’s flailing, he smirked. "Is it really that spicy?" He had added a generous amount of chili oil to keep warm in the wild, but he thought it tasted fine—at most, it just left his mouth pleasantly warm.
"It really is! Look at Mingya’s tongue!" Whimpering, Mingya stuck out his bright red tongue as irrefutable evidence.
Lei Jin skeptically tossed another piece into his mouth. Okay, maybe it was a bit spicy. But all the meat he’d prepared was like this—he hadn’t expected Mingya to follow and hadn’t had time to make alternatives.
"Then… can you blow on it for Mingya?" Mingya clutched the hem of his clothes nervously, his voice tentative.
Lei Jin’s smile vanished instantly. His expression darkened as he pinched Mingya’s chin. "Open your mouth." He leaned in and blew a couple of perfunctory puffs. "Better?"
"En!" Mingya suppressed a grin, looking as smug as a cat that had just stolen cream.
Yeah, right. As if his breath had magical healing powers. And yet Mingya kept eating despite the spice.
Just as Mingya was about to take another bite, Lei Jin stopped him. He pulled out a bamboo tube, filled it with snow water, and soaked the meat in it. Since it was already cold, a little more wouldn’t hurt. Handing it to Mingya, he said, "Eat this for now. Next time we stop, I’ll find something more suitable for you."
"Okay!" Mingya nodded vigorously.
Lan Qi rolled his eyes discreetly. Weren’t they supposed to be cutting ties forever? Why are they still so clingy? Distracted, he shoved a few pieces of meat into his mouth—and immediately regretted it. His tongue burned, and his first instinct was to spit it out. But under the duo’s watchful eyes, he forced himself to swallow the whole thing without chewing. His throat burned, and his tongue went numb. He swore inwardly: Never again.
At least Berg couldn’t cook. That meant Lan Qi wouldn’t be poisoned to death—unlike this poor werebeast, who actually enjoyed this torture. Lan Qi consoled himself, forgetting that merfolk cuisine mainly consisted of bland seaweed and shellfish. Of course, he couldn’t handle such spice, let alone the excessive amount of chili Lei Jin had used.
Regardless, Lan Qi steadfastly adhered to his principle: Not another bite of Lei Jin’s cooking. Unbeknownst to him, Lei Jin misinterpreted his refusal as shyness, completely unaware that his culinary skills were being utterly despised.
Meanwhile, Mingya had fished out the soaked meat and eaten his fill.
To distract himself, Lan Qi asked Mingya, "You should’ve been drugged last night too. How’d you wake up so fast?" Though he hadn’t known Lei Jin long, the man’s meticulous preparations showed he was thorough. If he’d drugged everyone, he wouldn’t have missed Mingya.
Mingya wanted to ask, what drug? But remembering that this man was responsible for the baby’s death, he bit his lip and glared silently.
Lei Jin was also curious. Mingya had been the first to collapse, yet he’d woken up so quickly. But this question was better directed at the drug’s provider. "What kind of useless drug did you give me?"
Lan Qi smirked meaningfully. "Oh, it worked. Otherwise, why haven’t those two caught up? This drug was originally meant for Berg. Harmless to the body—the less you eat, the longer you sleep. The more you eat, the more awake you become. But I’ve never seen anyone wake up as fast as him." He pointed at Mingya, who pretended not to listen but was clearly eavesdropping.
So that explained why Moya, who’d eaten the least, was still asleep, while Xiya, who’d eaten more, had managed to grab Lei Jin’s hem. What kind of ridiculous drug is this? Judging by Lan Qi’s lewd grin, it was definitely something shady. No wonder Berg wanted to flee to the ends of the earth. If Lei Jin were Berg, he’d castrate Lan Qi first and ask questions later.
The journey remained relatively uneventful, though the snowstorm grew heavier. Mingya suggested carrying Lei Jin and flying to speed things up, but the blizzard made it too dangerous even for werebeasts. The river valley, with its sparse trees, at least provided some shelter from the wind. Occasionally, they dug up rabbit burrows or bird nests for extra food. Without fire, Mingya had to eat the meat raw, while Lan Qi caught fish in the river—though he complained about the muddy taste, it was still better than Lei Jin’s chili-laced abominations.
Later, the merfolk would wonder what had happened to their king during his travels—his once-picky appetite had vanished, and he now ate whatever was served without complaint.
By noon on the fifth day, they reached the river’s mouth. The blizzard had ceased, and Lan Qi swam back into the sea. Exhausted from days of poor sleep and meals, Lei Jin and Mingya found a sheltered spot by the shore and collapsed into sleep.
Once Lei Jin was deeply asleep, Mingya carefully cradled his legs and pulled him into a tight embrace.
In his arms, Lei Jin’s eyelashes fluttered briefly before he settled back into slumber.
That afternoon, they dug up a few rabbit and field mouse nests in the snowfield, even catching a snake. But Lei Jin would rather starve than eat field mice, no matter how plump they were.
They prepared the rabbit and snake, salted them, and roasted them on the raft. A bamboo tube filled with water was also heated over the fire. That night, they enjoyed their first hot meal since leaving home. The leftovers were packed into the basket for the journey ahead. The charred raft was pushed into the sea, where it quickly disintegrated in the waves.
By the ninth day of the Moon Festival, the snow on the rooftops had melted, droplets pattering continuously from the eaves. Yet Lei Jin’s household had only been seen on the first day—Roger, An Sen, and An Lo made an appearance, but Xiya and Moya, who were supposed to light the festival bonfire, were absent. Even Lei Jin, who loved festivities, was nowhere to be seen. Had something happened to their family? Should Chunji go check? But he really didn’t want to face Roger, even though he knew his resentment toward the man was unreasonable—Roger had never wronged him.
"What’s got you so lost in thought?" A werebeast sweeping snow in the courtyard straightened up, eyeing Chunji’s distracted expression.
"Mind your own business." Chunji scowled at the interruption.
"Fine, fine. Keep brooding." He sighed and resumed sweeping.
A faint cry from inside the house made Chunji’s expression shift. He hurried in, where a small figure lay weakly on the bed, its cries barely audible. The child was clearly unwell.
"Baby, are you hungry? Here, some warm milk fruit juice." Chunji lifted the child skillfully, offering a bowl warmed in hot water.
The baby only took a few sips before spitting it out, continuing to whimper softly.
"I thought he was getting better a few days ago. Why is he refusing to eat again?" The werebeast from outside entered, concerned.
"I don’t know. He’s been like this since the eve of the festival—almost ten days now." Chunji wiped the baby’s mouth with a soft cloth.
"This isn’t sustainable. The child is already frail to begin with." Though he didn’t understand why Chunji had brought someone else's child home.
"I know. I’ve tried everything, but nothing helps. If this continues…" But he bore some responsibility for the child’s condition. If only he’d noticed the baby’s existence sooner.
The black-haired baby’s face was flushed from crying, his breath uneven.
"Hush, little one. What’s wrong? Are you in pain? Or… do you miss your papa?"