Werebeast Gongs CH 145 Not Saying That Word
When Lei Jin and Mingya left home, the grasslands were still partially covered in snow, and they were bundled in thick winter clothes. The further south they traveled, the warmer it became. They shed layers along the way, and by the time they flew beyond the grasslands a month later, they had switched to light summer cotton tunics.
The weather had been particularly bad these past few days—gusty winds followed by sudden downpours. The group pressed on with little rest. Seeing that everyone was exhausted, the leader of the Feather Tribe, Nan Xin, called for an early stop before dusk at a clean water source near the border of the grasslands and forests. The terrain was flat and open, ideal for camping. The Feather Tribe, accustomed to life on the move, worked efficiently—pitching tents, gathering firewood, lighting bonfires, hunting, and cooking—all in seamless coordination.
Lei Jin was inside Nan Xin’s tent, sorting medicinal herbs, when he spotted Mingya returning with the hunters, their haul slung over their shoulders.
Seeing Lei Jin, Mingya grinned and waved before heading to the river with the others to clean the game.
"What an adorable boy," Nan Xin remarked. Older than An Sen and the others, he treated Lei Jin and Mingya like little children.
"His son is even more adorable," Lei Jin replied, his expression softening at the thought of his children. They had left while the little ones were still asleep to avoid tearful goodbyes. He wondered if they had thrown tantrums upon waking, but with so many family members around, he wasn’t too worried.
Life at home—gathering for meals, drinking, farming, hunting, playing with the kids—was undeniably warm and peaceful. But Lei Jin couldn’t deny that being cooped up in one place with nothing to do had stifled him. People needed to get out, broaden their horizons, and discover new things. Like now—they had already found carrot and tomato seeds on their journey, as well as an oil fruit that prevented chapped hands when applied.
Nan Xin had stayed with Lei Jin’s family last year and knew all the children. He admired Lei Jin’s straightforward nature, so he wasn’t surprised by the unabashed praise for his own kids. Those little ones were plump and fair-skinned—mischievous, yes, but not at all annoying.
"Those two little devils, Pomelo and Orange—I still can’t tell them apart."
"They just need a good spanking," Lei Jin muttered. At seven years old combined, they still loved swapping identities. He worried their future partners wouldn’t be able to tell them apart either.
"Grapes is much better," Chaoyu, sitting to Lei Jin’s right, added softly.
Lei Jin, familiar with him by now, flicked his forehead playfully. "Kid, don’t get any ideas about my son."
Chaoyu puffed his cheeks but didn’t dare argue, thinking to himself, why is Grapes’ dad so violent when all the other female uncles in the tribe are so gentle? At least Grapes doesn’t take after him.
Another poor soul fooled by Grapes’ sweet facade.
Nan Xin watched their banter without interfering. Chaoyu was bright, quick to learn medicine, and dutiful—but having lost his parents young, he had grown quiet and withdrawn. Lei Jin’s teasing had drawn him out, making him more expressive.
"Chief, Lei Jin, dinner’s ready," someone called from outside.
"Let’s eat. I’m starving," Nan Xin said, ushering them out.
Apart from Lei Jin, the group consisted entirely of werebeasts. Initially, they had only accepted Lei Jin because their chief agreed, and because his mate was the future chief of the Leopard Tribe—a political courtesy. But after seeing Mingya’s hunting prowess and Lei Jin’s uncomplaining resilience, they genuinely warmed up to them.
Lei Jin also noticed the shift—from polite distance to genuine camaraderie.
"Lei Jin, try the roasted pork skin—just came off the fire, still crispy!" A tribesman handed him a large, glistening piece.
Lei Jin accepted it with a smile, settling onto a grass mat to join the lively conversation. Lately, the humid heat had made the cooks add excessive amounts of chili and lemon to the food—sour and spicy, a torture on the stomach. Since everyone else endured it, Lei Jin bore it silently.
Noticing he hadn’t eaten much, Mingya magically produced a bowl of fish soup back in their tent.
"How did you make this?" Lei Jin asked. The Feather Tribe had designated cooks, and he hadn’t wanted to trouble them with special requests.
"Caught some small fish, cleaned them, added water, and dropped in heated river stones. The soup cooks itself."
"Mingya, you’re getting smarter." Lei Jin rewarded him with a loud kiss on the forehead. They shared the soup, its rich aroma lingering as the stones kept it warm.
"I’m on night watch," Mingya said afterward. The tribe scattered insect-repelling herbs around the camp, assigning shifts.
"Come back early. If you see anything strange, call for help—don’t charge in alone like an idiot." Lei Jin straightened Mingya’s collar as he sat on the fur bedding.
“En.” Mingya hugged him, secured the tent flap, and took a deep breath of the damp air. He was glad Lei Jin had chosen to bring him this time.
Further south lay dense jungles—stiflingly hot, with leaves dripping moisture even when it wasn’t raining. Deep inside was a small village of about a dozen households, a familiar stop for the Feather Tribe to resupply. While the others busied themselves with gathering and preparing herbs, Lei Jin and Mingya joined the villagers, painting their faces and arms red to hunt crocodiles in the swamps. They learned to trap poisonous blue frogs—their venom could paralyze an elephant-sized beast but was harmless to humans. They also discovered umbrella trees—cut branches tossed into water sprouted broad, rain-sheltering canopies overnight.
One type of mushroom, when mature, grew over two meters tall. Its tough cap, impervious to animal teeth, made a perfect cradle for babies—ventilated and dry. Lei Jin desperately wanted to take a few home, but they were too bulky.
Beyond the jungle, the terrain rose into highlands, the air cooling into autumn-like crispness. A towering mountain range divided the land—deserts to the east, sparse grasslands to the west, dotted with strange carvings on boulders.
By the fifth month, they reached the southernmost tip of the continent—a wintry landscape surrounded by sea, floating ice drifting on the waves. Contrary to Lei Jin’s expectations, it wasn’t a frozen wasteland. Rivers gushed from the mountains, feeding into the ocean, while towering trees and diverse wildlife thrived. The perpetually overcast skies didn’t hinder the werebeasts’ vision. The Feather Tribe gathered medicinal materials from cliffs, shores, and beaches, while Mingya hunted animals with exceptionally warm pelts.
The return journey was quicker. Though they still collected herbs, they now knew where to look, saving time. Even so, by the time they returned to the Leopard Tribe, autumn had arrived. The Feather Tribe made a brief stop before continuing northward.
The children, having missed Lei Jin for half a year, clung to him the moment he returned.
Xiya and Moya noticed Lei Jin had lost weight but seemed brighter, more alive. They understood—he had been stifled at home. Lei Jin wasn’t the type to stay confined, raising kids and cooking. They didn’t want to restrain him either. As long as he was happy, they would support him.
That year’s Moon Sacrifice Festival saw Xiya succeed An Bu as the new Leopard Tribe chief.
Roger invented a blowpipe using the poison frog venom Lei Jin and Mingya had brought back, allowing hunters to ambush dangerous beasts from a distance, reducing close-combat casualties.
Over the next two years, Lei Jin traveled frequently with the Feather Tribe—sometimes accompanied by Mingya, sometimes Moya. Xiya, as chief, couldn’t leave.
Their footprints covered much of the eastern continent. Lei Jin’s expeditions consistently brought back valuable resources, and gradually, more tribesmen joined, swelling their ranks. Before long, Lei Jin found himself back in a leadership role, surrounded by followers and admirers.
In the tenth year, Lei Jin left home in summer and returned in winter, this time with Moya. Upon entering the tribe, guards informed them Xiya was injured. Lei Jin’s heart lurched—as chief, Xiya led from the front, and Lei Jin had always feared this would happen.
"Xiya!" Lei Jin jumped off Moya’s back and burst through the door.
"Dad! Daddy!" Grapes called.
"You’re back?" Xiya sat on the bed, smiling as nine-year-old Grapes changed his bandages.
"Where are you hurt?" Lei Jin patted Grapes’ head and sat beside Xiya.
"Just a scratch on the stomach," Xiya downplayed it, squeezing Lei Jin’s hand.
"Are you sure?" Moya stepped forward to check.
"Really, I just got medicated. Don’t undo it." Xiya feigned exasperation, his spirits high. "Ask Grapes."
"Yeah, Dad, Eldest Dad’s almost healed," Grapes chimed in, catching Xiya’s cue and grabbing Moya’s arm.
Moya relented with a faint smile. "Good. Where are Papa, Dads, and the kids?"
Xiya filled him in.
After unpacking, Moya asked, "I'm going to cook, Brother, Lei Jin, Grapes, what do you want for dinner?"
"Pork bone soup with yam, and big dumplings," Xiya said without hesitation. He had monopolized Lei Jin long enough.
"Got it. Lei Jin, stay with Xiya." Moya smiled good-naturedly.
“Dad, I'll help with the fire.”
“Okay, come on.”
Watching them leave, Xiya dropped his act, leaning heavily against Lei Jin with a groan.
"Does it hurt?" Lei Jin ruffled his hair gently.
"Lei Jin… I don’t want to be chief anymore."
Lei Jin blinked. "Why? What happened?" Were things that serious that he didn't even want to be chief?
"You’re all gone, and I’m stuck here alone. It’s boring." Xiya pouted.
Lei Jin nearly choked. This was the reason? A nearly thirty-year-old man whining like a child—without a shred of shame.
"Are you sure?"
Xiya buried his face in Lei Jin’s shoulder, then sighed. "Never mind. Just kidding." He didn’t fear danger—it was the empty house, the lonely bed that wore him down. But as the eldest, protecting the family was his duty. He didn’t crave power, but he refused to let anyone else command him or harm his family. The thought steeled his resolve.
"Let me think about it. Rest now. I’ll wake you for dinner." Lei Jin cupped his face and planted a firm kiss on his lips.
The room was warm. As Xiya drifted off, his brows slightly furrowed from pain, an idea took shape in Lei Jin’s mind.
"Lei Jin, you want to be chief?" Mingya, shelling walnuts for the kids, nearly dropped one. It wasn’t his fault for being shocked—no female had ever held that position.
"Don’t joke. Even if you want it, I’m not stepping down," Xiya said firmly, handing his empty medicine bowl to Moya. He knew Lei Jin’s suggestion was for his sake.
Moya stayed silent, seemingly considering the feasibility.
"Moya, you’re not actually agreeing, are you?"
"Maybe we could try."
"No." Letting Lei Jin lead hunts would only endanger him.
"Let me finish," Lei Jin cut in impatiently, startling even Apple, who paused mid-bite.
"After thinking it over, I’m the best candidate. The chief’s position stays in the family, and none of you will be tied down here, unable to go out." Like Xiya, he refused to relinquish power to outsiders.
"But what about you?" Xiya asked.
"Eldest Brother, do you really think the tribe would let a female lead hunts?" Moya pointed out. Xiya’s concern had blinded him to the obvious.
"So Lei Jin would be chief in name, but we’d take turns leading hunts?"
"We can help too." Footsteps approached as An Sen, An Lo, An Bu and Roger entered.
"Dad, Papa, what brings you here?" Mingya and Grapes made space.
Roger checked Xiya’s injury first. "Lei Jin mentioned his idea earlier. I think it’s a good one." Females in the tribe, once pampered and passive, had grown stronger and stood straighter—now handling half the farming work while the males hunted. If Lei Jin proposed becoming chief, the females would rally behind him.
Lei Jin had earned respect—defending the tribe, introducing new crops, improving diets, fostering alliances…
"Wait, when you list it like that, I have done a lot," Lei Jin mused. "My plan was to negotiate first. If that fails, we’ll ‘reason’ with them one by one." As for how the reasoning would go, it depended on their attitude.
Roger rolled his eyes. "Reasoning with your fists, you mean."
Werebeasts revered strength. An Sen and the others, though older, still relished the thrill of leading and protecting their people. They supported Lei Jin’s idea—if the kids weren’t around, they would step up.
As Roger predicted, the females were ecstatic at the news. The werebeasts who had followed Lei Jin on his expeditions naturally backed him, as did those who remembered his contributions. A few proud werebeasts resisted, but with six werebeasts in Lei Jin’s family—including two chiefs—they thought twice before challenging him.
That year’s Moon Sacrifice Festival saw Lei Jin become the Leopard Tribe’s first female chief.
During the inauguration, tradition required the new chief to be anointed with oils and pigments by the tribe’s priest. For male chiefs, this meant wearing only shorts to display strength and devotion. But for a female, stripping in winter was unthinkable. The old priest compromised—Lei Jin would wear a single layer. Although a female chief didn't need to lead hunts, that didn't mean they could be weak enough to fall over from a single wind. This was accepted by everyone.
Lei Jin saw no issue. A little cold wouldn’t kill him.
But he severely underestimated the tribe’s enthusiasm.
The rule was simple: supporters anointed the chief; abstainers didn’t. He knew he had majority support, but the sea of faces at the temple stunned him. Had anyone stayed home? Even Jia Nuo, his longtime rival, smeared his face with ash-laced lard, humming cheerfully as he left.
Lei Jin clenched his fists and endured three hours of being touched by nearly four thousand people. Secretly, he felt that he had lost out a lot.
When the last person finished, Xiya rushed to carry him down. Lei Jin’s lips were blue, his body stiff with cold. Mingya had prepared hot water at home, and Moya helped him change, rubbing warmth into his limbs before settling him into the bath.
Exhausted, Lei Jin still had to oversee the ceremony that night as chief. By the time it ended and he returned home, he vomited everything he ate during the late-night ceremony.
Grapes examined him with a strange expression.
"Grapes, what’s wrong with your daddy?" Moya asked.
"I haven’t learned this yet. We should call my master." Grapes scratched his head. The pulse readings suggested…
Fortunately, Xiya hadn’t relied solely on their son who was still a child. He had already fetched Tian Qi.
Tian Qi had just returned home after sitting a while with the old priest when Xiya arrived to drag him over. Chunji followed them.
After diagnosing, Tian Qi smiled cryptically at the anxious family.
"Am I pregnant?" Lei Jin asked calmly, though he had suspected. Apple was over four, and after years without conception, he had assumed it wouldn’t happen again.
"Three months along. Given the dual pulse patterns, you’re likely carrying both a female and a werebeast."
Lei Jin’s gaze turned icy as he glared at the three men. "Who. Did. This?"
All three wiped their brows and stepped back in unison. How would we know if you don’t? But grins crept onto their faces. Whoever’s it was, the children were still theirs.
Pomelo and Orange peeked through the doorframe, tails touching in silent celebration as they communicated through their twin bond. We’re getting two little brothers soon.
Apple, sprawled on the floor, stretched before suddenly realizing what was happening. He leaped onto the bed, nuzzling Lei Jin’s belly excitedly.
"Daddy! Daddy! Am I gonna be a big brother too?"
The family collectively admired Apple’s fearless, self-sacrificing spirit.
Lei Jin sighed, pulling him close. "Yes. But not for five months. Quiet down."
News spread quickly. The new chief, pregnant with twins right after taking office? What a prosperous omen for the tribe.