Chapter 50: Moon-Whisker Weed

“Shěn?!?!”

Hóng Yè’s panicked scream echoed through the clearing.

Bai Yue dropped her wooden ladle, completely abandoning the bubbling pot of bone broth. “We have to follow him! What if he smelled a rogue beast?! What if he’s running straight into an ambush?!”

Mo Xiao didn’t wait for a second invitation. The Panther Alpha instantly shifted into his massive, black-furred beast form and bounded into the thick jungle, following the trail of broken branches Shěn had left in his wake.

“Wait for me!” Hóng Yè yelled, sprinting after the Alpha with surprising speed for a starving teenager.

Bai Yue hiked up her woven skirt and prepared to run, but she barely made it two steps before her feet completely left the ground.

“Eek!”

For the second time in twenty-four hours, the world tilted sideways as a strong arm hooked under her knees. Zhāo Yàn smoothly scooped her up against his chest, not even breaking his stride as he leapt effortlessly over a massive, moss-covered log.

“Put me down! I can run!” Bai Yue protested, swatting at his broad shoulder.

“You have tiny, blunt legs, little female,” Zhāo Yàn purred as the wind whipped through his hair. “You will trip on a root, break your delicate nose, and I don’t want that. Though….perhaps I should put you down after all.”

Bai Yue’s face instantly burned. “You are completely shameless!”

“And you are completely red,” the Fox Lord smirked, pulling her just a fraction closer. “It is a very good color on you.”

They tore through the dense, humid jungle, guided by the sound of Mo Xiao’s heavy paws and Hóng Yè’s frantic yelling ahead of them.

Up ahead, Mo Xiao suddenly skidded to a halt at the edge of a sunlit, rocky hollow.

Zhāo Yàn landed lightly on his feet right beside the Alpha, gently setting Bai Yue down.

They all drew their weapons, their muscles tensed, fully expecting to see a terrifying rogue beastman, a bloodbath, or a massive territorial threat.

Bai Yue peeked out from behind Zhāo Yàn’s broad back.

She looked into the clearing.

And her brain immediately stopped working.

There was no rogue. There was no blood. There was only a large, incredibly rare patch of glowing, vibrant purple weeds sprouting from the damp soil.

And right in the middle of the glowing weeds was Shěn.

The terrifying, emotionless, broad-shouldered Tiger beastman, the elite bodyguard of the Wandering River Tribe, was lying flat on his back in the dirt.

He had a fistful of the purple weeds clutched in each hand, aggressively rubbing the crushed petals all over his cheeks. A sound was echoing through the clearing. It wasn’t a roar of pain. It wasn’t a battle cry.

It was a purr.

“Shěn…?” Hóng Yè whispered, his jaw unhinging as he dropped to his knees.

Shěn didn’t look up.

His face remained entirely, terrifyingly blank, maintaining the exact same apathetic expression he always wore.

However, his thick tiger tail was swishing happily back and forth, thumping against the dirt. He slowly lifted his feet into the air and began to rhythmically open and close his hands.

A single yellow butterfly fluttered down from the canopy.

Shěn’s blank, deadpan eyes locked onto it. He let out a tiny, high-pitched chirp, swatted at the butterfly with lightning speed, missed entirely, and then rolled over to vigorously rub his neck against a glowing purple root.

“By the Great Spirit,” Mo Xiao wheezed, clapping a hand over his mouth. His massive panther shoulders began to shake with suppressed laughter. “It’s Moon-Whisker Weed.”

“Moon-Whisker what?” Bai Yue asked, staring in sheer disbelief as the fearsome tiger tried to bite a rock.

“It is a highly concentrated, incredibly rare herb that only blooms for a few days a year,” Zhāo Yàn explained. The Fox Lord was currently leaning against a tree, tears of humor gathering in the corners of his red eyes. “It has absolutely no effect on foxes, wolves, or dragons. But to large feline beastmen? It is……well. Look at him.”

“Shěn! Get up!” Hóng Yè shrieked, burying his face in his hands in absolute, mortifying despair. “You are an elite warrior! You have killed rogue bears with your bare hands! Stop licking the dirt! You are embarrassing me!”

Shěn paused his dirt-licking. He looked at Hóng Yè with his signature, dead-eyed stare, let out a loud, drawn-out meow, and went right back to moving his hands in the air.

Bai Yue panic over the potential rogue threat completely evaporated, replaced by a sudden, striking realization.

“Ah! The cubs!” Bai Yue gasped, her hands flying to her cheeks. She spun around to face Zhāo Yàn and Mo Xiao. “We just ran off and left them alone in the clearing! Ruì Xuě and Yòu Lín and the others are unsupervised! What if they fall into the fire?!”

“Calm your racing heart, little female,” Zhāo Yàn chuckled, reaching out to gently flick her forehead.

“They are perfectly fine. We did not leave them alone. Cāng Jì was far too lazy to chase after us, and the icy Snow Leopard is still there sulking. They are watching the kits.”

“A dragon and a severely emotionally repressed leopard,” Bai Yue muttered, rubbing her forehead. “Yes, that sounds like premium childcare.”

Mo Xiao sighed, wiping a hand down his face as he walked over to the Tiger beastman.

Shěn was still lying flat on his back in the dirt, his eyes blown wide, intensely watching a single dandelion seed drift through the air.

“Alright, playtime is over. Let us go back, Shěn,” Mo Xiao ordered, using his most commanding, authoritative Alpha voice.

Shěn slowly turned his head. He looked at the massive Panther Alpha with his signature dead, emotionless stare.

“…”

“I said, get up. We are leaving,” Mo Xiao repeated, clapping his hands.

Shěn blinked slowly. Then, with a completely straight face, he let out a loud, drawn-out, “Mrrrow.”

Hóng Yè buried his face in his hands, letting out a muffled scream of absolute despair. “Just leave him! I will tell my father he was eaten by a hydra! I can never look at him again!”

“We cannot leave him in the woods,” Mo Xiao grunted. He reached down, grabbing Shěn, and gave a mighty heave to pull the boy to his feet.

Instead of standing up, Shěn’s entire body seemed to turn into cooked noodles.

He didn’t resist. He simply went completely, utterly boneless.

As Mo Xiao pulled his torso up, Shěn’s hips and legs remained glued to the dirt, his spine stretching out like a lazy cat soaking in the sun. The moment Mo Xiao let go to get a better grip, Shěn instantly melted right back into a puddle on the forest floor, purring loudly.

“By the Great Spirit,” Mo Xiao wheezed, rubbing his lower back. “What do they feed this kit?! He is like a sack of wet boulders!”

Zhāo Yàn chuckled. “Tigers are incredibly dense, Mo Xiao. And when a feline does not wish to be moved, they manipulate their own gravity.”

“Then come over here and help me apply your help to his legs!” Mo Xiao barked.

“Absolutely not,” Zhāo Yàn scoffed, dusting an imaginary speck off his pristine sleeve. “I am a Lord of the Eastern Hills. I do not do heavy lifting. My hands are meant for weaving illusions and caressing my mate, not dragging a hallucinating young through the mud.”

“Grab a leg, Fox Lord, or I will tell the entire tribe you use flower water to scent your tails!” Mo Xiao threatened.

Zhāo Yàn’s smile vanished. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

With a deep sigh, Zhāo Yàn gracefully walked over to the puddle of Tiger.

“On three,” Mo Xiao instructed. He grabbed Shěn’s thick arms. Zhāo Yàn grabbed his heavy feet.

“One. Two. Three. HEAVE!”

The powerful beastmen strained, their muscles bulging as they hoisted the completely limp teenager into the air.

Shěn was suspended between them, his stomach facing the sky, carried exactly like a giant, striped rug.

“Ugh!” Zhāo Yàn groaned, his ears flattening. “He is heavy! Is he hiding rocks in his pockets?!”

As they began the slow, agonizing trek back through the jungle, Shěn remained perfectly relaxed in his beast hammock.

However, his pupils were still completely dilated, completely lost in the Moon-Whisker sauce.

As they carried him beneath the dense green canopy, Shěn’s deadpan eyes locked onto the empty air above him. He slowly freed one of his arms from Mo Xiao’s grip, reaching up toward a completely empty patch of sky.

Swish. Swish. He began violently swatting at imaginary birds.

“I have you,” Shěn whispered into the empty air, his fist closing around nothing. He brought his empty hand to his chest, patting it gently. “Good bird.”

“He has completely lost his mind,” Hóng Yè sobbed, trailing behind the struggling men. “My fierce, unstoppable bodyguard…..he is trying to catch air-pigeons.”

“Keep his arms down!” Zhāo Yàn hissed, ducking as Shěn blindly swatted right past his nose. “If he claws my face, I am dropping him in the river!”

“Just keep walking!” Mo Xiao panted, sweat beading on his forehead. “And Hong Ye, grab the kit’s tail, it’s dragging in the mud!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep