Werebeast Gongs CH 136 Rare Peace
Moya’s initial surprise faded quickly, replaced by calm. His deep green eyes shone brightly as he gave a serious nod and a simple “en.” Seeing his earnest expression actually made Lei Jin feel a bit awkward. He suddenly realized this was probably the only time in his life he’d be “taking wives,” and blurting it out like that felt a little too casual. Shouldn’t he at least have picked some wildflowers or something as a token gesture? But then again, they were all grown men. Getting fussy about it would seem petty. Living together in the future was about sharing a bed happily and supporting each other off it. As for a fancy proposal? Well, it wasn’t really that important.
Mingya, though he’d already gotten the inside scoop, was genuinely elated now that it was confirmed. A puppy-like, affectionate smile spread across his lips and eyes. Terrified Lei Jin might change his mind, he immediately blurted out, “Mingya wants to! Mingya wants to!” His voice was indeed loud enough to startle the birds already roosting in nearby trees. Countless little heads poked out from the foliage, lining up to chatter and gossip.
Xiya’s reaction was the most exaggerated. He directly tackled Lei Jin to the ground, planting a solid, thorough kiss before finally grinning and saying, “Naturally, I’m willing too.”
Lei Jin wrinkled his brow, wiping the saliva from his face. Well, I guess the proposal counts as successful. He promptly followed up with instructions: “Remember to call me ‘husband’ from now on, wives. Or ‘Brother Jin’ is also fine.” He generously offered two options.
Neither Xiya nor Moya had expected the issue they’d been quietly worrying about to be resolved so simply, on such a late autumn evening. Now, only a public ceremony remained. Truly, with Lei Jin involved, you couldn’t rely on conventional reasoning.
The tribe was small; nothing escaped notice. So, the very next day when Lei Jin stepped out, he was met with countless suggestive glances. The bolder ones outright eyed his belly, their envy and jealousy unmistakable.
“Ngh…” Lei Jin dug his fingers into the dry, yellow grass beneath him, enduring the rough friction inside him. The area between his buttocks was already slick, indicating they’d been at it for a while. But the silver-white leopard still pressed fervently against his back, his breath hot, clearly not done. His four paws wrapped tightly around the body beneath him, hips thrusting, driving insistently against sensitive inner walls.
The two of them carried on for most of the afternoon before finally satisfying themselves. Mingya shifted back to human form and carried Lei Jin into the water for a quick wash.
“We’re not coming here anymore. It’s getting cold, the water’s freezing.” Lei Jin squeezed the water from his hair as he climbed out. This was Mingya’s sea of grass. Lei Jin had seized every spare moment to drag Mingya here for a few rounds. But most of autumn had passed, and his belly remained stubbornly flat. Before, when he hadn’t wanted it, it happened in one go. Now that he was finally willing, nothing seemed to work.
It was deep autumn now, winter fast approaching. Even with Lei Jin’s robust constitution, he wasn’t keen on suffering a cold bath in the biting northeast wind.
“Oh.” Mingya agreed, his post-passion excitement dimming slightly. He knew Lei Jin already spoiled him terribly, indulging his every whim. A baby wasn’t something you could force.
“Mingya will dry you off. Don’t get sick.” Mingya wrapped Lei Jin entirely in his own large tunic, briskly rubbing him down from head to toe.
“Alright, I’ll do it. You get dressed too.” Lei Jin flicked Mingya’s forehead. Since becoming a little father, the kid had gotten remarkably good at taking care of people.
“Almost done.” Mingya knelt patiently on the ground, carefully tying Lei Jin’s clothes.
Lei Jin hooked a finger under Mingya’s chin, forcing him to look up. “We’re not coming here anymore, but that doesn’t mean I won’t let you do it at home, does it?” His thoughts were transparent.
Mingya hugged Lei Jin’s legs, rubbing against him like an affectionate puppy.
Lei Jin was fully dressed now, but Mingya was still standing there naked. With nothing else to do, Lei Jin turned his attention to Mingya. The little guy was twenty this year, in his prime. Clean-cut features, tall and well-built with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, clearly defined muscles. His personality was genuinely adorable, unpretentious. Looked at any way, he was utterly appealing. Lei Jin stroked his chin, flashing a lecherous-uncle grin.
Mingya squirmed under Lei Jin’s predatory gaze, subtly turning his back.
Lei Jin sauntered over, casually giving Mingya’s firm buttocks a couple of appreciative squeezes. “En, great feel. Let me try it out sometime,” he remarked, not without admiration.
Mingya’s face flushed crimson. Clutching his clothes, his eyes were wide and watery with confusion.
They kept up this routine every few days. Xiya and Moya saw it, but tactfully stayed out of it. Despite such diligent “plowing,” Lei Jin’s belly remained obstinately flat. Determined not to miss anything, he even pushed Tian Qi to check his pulse several times. The result was always the same: healthy, but not pregnant. After a few attempts, he almost died of embarrassment under Chunji’s teasing laughter. Chunji said he’d seen females wanting babies, but never one so frantic and impatient. Eventually, Lei Jin accepted it – these things couldn’t be rushed. Let nature take its course.
Winter arrived. Though snow hadn’t fallen yet, the days grew visibly colder. Charcoal braziers were lit indoors. The cleanly washed animal hide curtains from spring were rehung. Windows were freshly pasted with bark paper. Beds were piled with thick blankets. Nestled inside, it was wonderfully warm and cozy. Everyone in the household, big and small, bundled up in thick fur clothes. Even the two little furballs, who rarely shifted to human form, got stylish new outfits with four sleeves, all sewn by Su Rui. When Qi Luo delivered them, he watched expectantly. Lei Jin couldn’t just toss them into the bottom of a cabinet in front of him. But the direct consequence of dressing them was that every time Lei Jin took them out, watching the two little golden leopards scamper ahead in their clothes, he sincerely felt the bizarre sensation of walking dogs back in the modern world.
The three little ones lay side-by-side on the bed, bare-skinned, cheeks puffed out like little hamsters as they munched on the popcorn Lei Jin had idly tried making. Seeing their ol’ dad rummaging through the chest muttering about how many clothes there were, Grapes stuffed the remaining popcorn into Orange’s mouth and piped up with his usual cleverness. “Daddy, when you weren’t home, our Dads made lots of clothes for you every year. That one with the grey fur on the sleeves? That’s from the big forest grey rat Youngest Dad caught. The black one? Eldest Dad brought that back. The one right at the bottom? That’s from Dad…”
Lei Jin smiled, neatly arranging them, hoping to wear them all through this winter.
The Tiger Tribe’s annual market was approaching. The family prepared three large bundles well in advance: one for Hao Chen and his family, one for Berg (whose second child was likely due around that time), and the last for trading at the market itself. Worried An Bu’s old injury might flare up on the journey, Xiya led the tribe delegation this time.
Shortly after Xiya’s departure, the first major winter hunt loomed. While An Sen and the others prepared gear at home, Moya took Mingya, Lei Jin, and the three little ones to An Bu’s place. Living alone, he probably hadn’t prepared much for winter. When they arrived, An Bu sat with some willow twigs, a basket half-woven in his hands. The house felt icy; no charcoal brazier was lit. Moya went to the woodshed and found some charcoal from last year to light. It took a while for the house to warm up.
Mingya boiled water in the kitchen. An Bu carried the children to the bed, then brought out a jar of wild honey, making each a cup of honey water. Sitting back down, he said, “You’re all busy. Don’t worry about coming here so often. My wounds are healed. I have food and drink; I won’t neglect myself. I didn’t light a brazier because werebeasts aren’t that bothered by the cold. You know that.”
Lei Jin did know. While tribal life had improved significantly these past few years, it was still mostly about filling bellies. Not every household could afford charcoal braziers in winter; charcoal was traded from the Bear Tribe. Usually, only better-off families or those with young females could afford to burn it.
“Dad, in a couple of days, we’re heading out for the big hunt. Dad An Luo said they’ll try letting me lead it this time.” It wasn’t the first time Lei Jin heard Moya call An Bu “Dad,” but it wasn’t common either. He used to call him Uncle An Bu, and later, out of consideration for Roger, hadn’t used the term much either.
A warm smile touched An Bu’s lips. “I heard him mention it. It should have been your Dad An Luo leading this time. I know you’re steady, but it’s your first time. I wasn’t sure I wanted to agree at first. But with your Dads An Sen and An Luo vouching for you… I have no real worries…”
Seeing they likely had more to discuss, Lei Jin pulled Mingya aside to mix paste and cut bark paper for the windows. Moya’s voice was low. Lei Jin faintly caught An Bu’s words, giving detailed instructions, mixed with something like “I know you don’t want to compete with Xiya…”, “Xiya’s temperament is indeed more suited…”, “You support each other…”, and “Lei Jin…”. He was trying to listen more closely when Mura and his mate Xia Wei arrived. They all chatted, laughed, and worked for a good while, thoroughly tidying the house inside and out. It felt much warmer than before.
With most werebeasts gone, the tribe felt noticeably quieter. The winter wheat, already sown, had been watered once before the snow. The few cold-hardy crops left in the fields – radishes, cabbage, cilantro, needle mushrooms – were also harvested.
A north wind howled all night, temperatures plummeting. Lei Jin woke in the morning, lifted the hide curtain over the window. The bark paper let in dim light, just enough to see the white world outside. It must have snowed. The three little ones lay tangled in a heap, still sound asleep. Grapes didn’t seem to mind Orange and Pomelo’s fuzzy warmth anymore; he hugged Orange, his little foot resting on Pomelo’s belly. Lei Jin smiled, tucked the blankets around them, stirred the charcoal brazier to life, and left a small gap in the window before taking his bow and arrows from the wall and heading out. Snow still fell lightly. The stream behind the house glistened, covered with a thin layer of ice.
He led the antelope, Bread, from the shed. After most of autumn being tamed, Bread was much calmer now. Not exactly docile and adorable, but at least it didn’t constantly snort, roll its eyes, and buck people off. Lei Jin was pleased with its progress and bestowed the name “Bread” – its back a toasted yellow, its belly snowy white. Lei Jin thought it perfectly fitting. Even Roger praised it as much better than the initial “Roasted Bun.”
This time of year, many animals on the grasslands had already begun migrating south. Even so, Lei Jin dared not venture deep into the heart of the plains alone. He just rode Bread along the edges for a couple of circuits. He managed to shoot a grey, long-haired rabbit and found some “black-spotted eggplants” in the low bushes. Their green skin, speckled with black dots, looked unappetizing, but peeling it revealed a deep purple flesh. Used to stew rice, cooked just right, the flesh melted away, leaving the rice sweet, fragrant, soft, and sticky – utterly delicious.
Back home, he and Roger made breakfast. He then went back to the room and hauled the three sleepyheads out of bed, feeding them one by one. Another busy day at home began.
Though the tribe now had more food variety, cooking methods were still mostly roasting or boiling. Grains like wheat, corn, and rice were usually boiled whole. Occasionally, they’d be pounded into powder to make porridge for children. Lei Jin hadn’t bothered much before, but since deciding to stay this time, and being someone who didn’t like keeping things to himself, he gathered some people and taught them slightly more refined ways to cook. Simple steamed rolls, plain buns, flatbreads, noodles, rice balls – many tribe females had mastered these. The more dexterous ones even made passable dumplings, stuffed buns, filled pies, and savory pastries. Everyone eating better was a good thing. But a problem arose: making those required flour. Crushing grains was easy, but after seeing the usefulness of the stone mill at Lei Jin’s house, everyone wanted one. Large mills ground flour; smaller ones could press fresh peanut oil and soybean oil. With the cold weather, the tribe’s females had free time. So, Lei Jin’s house was constantly overrun with people coming to grind flour and press oil – a steady stream, big and small.
Though Lei Jin naturally enjoyed bustle, this level of commotion was too much. He commissioned the tribe’s stonemasons (mostly werebeasts with disabilities preventing them from hunting, who relied on their craft for food) to quickly make several larger stone mills. He paid them extra meat, so they worked fast. The mills were placed in an old, unused building by the main road west of the tribe. By the time Moya and the others returned from the big hunt over a month later, things were back to normal. It had cost some resources, but Lei Jin felt regaining peace at home was worth it. Besides, with Xiya destined to be chief, building goodwill now was hardly a bad investment.
The cold was biting. For dinner, Lei Jin cooked himself, wanting to stew some duck to nourish everyone. He was pressing corn cakes onto the pot rim when he felt a sudden chill on the back of his neck.
“I’m back.” Xiya’s lips were still cold from outside.
Lei Jin hunched his shoulders. “Hmph,” he grunted, turning in Xiya’s arms. He reached up and patted Xiya’s face affectionately. “Back is back. Why the fuss? Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“What’s this?” Xiya felt something sticky on his face, but a glance at Lei Jin’s hands told him all he needed to know.
Since Lei Jin admitted to liking him even a tiny bit, Xiya had become increasingly brazen. He grinned shamelessly, pulling the dodging figure close and leaning in for a kiss. But this time, fate intervened. Just as their lips were about to meet, a sleepy little creature crawled out of the bundle at Xiya’s feet.
“Daddy.”