Chapter 85: Thousand Fang Game Day

The sun wasn’t even fully over the treeline when Bai Yue was woken by the sound of tiny feet pounding past her hut.

POUND POUND POUND.

POUND POUND POUND.

SCREECH.

“MAMA! WAKE UP! IT’S GAME DAY!”

Bai Yue groaned, pulling a fur over her head. “It’s not even—”

The hide curtain flew open. Three panther cubs, one snow leopard cub, one fox kit, and two very enthusiastic snake twins piled into her hut like a furry, scaly avalanche.

“It IS game day!” Yòu Lín shrieked, launching himself onto her stomach before skidding to a horrified halt. “Wait. Baby. Can’t jump on baby.”

He froze mid-motion, little paws hovering in the air, looking at her belly with wide-eyed terror.

Ruì Xuě patted his brother’s back solemnly. “You have to aim for the sides now. A-Li explained it.”

“A-Li explains too many things,” Hóng Yè’s voice came from the doorway.

The teenager stood there, arms crossed, expression thoroughly unimpressed by the chaos unfolding before him. He was holding a steaming cup of a liquid.

“Drink this,” he said flatly, thrusting the cup toward Bai Yue. “You need liquids. For the baby. Or whatever.”

Bai Yue sat up slowly, accepting the cup. “You made me this?”

“I made myself a drink. There was extra.” Hóng Yè’s ears went pink. “It’s not a big deal. Don’t make it strange.”

“It’s strange,” Miao Miao announced. “Hóng Yè never shares his drink.”

“I’ll share my FOOT with your FACE—”

“LANGUAGE,” Bai Yue interrupted, sipping the liquid. It was perfect. Exactly the right temperature. Exactly how she liked it.

She looked at Hóng Yè over the rim of the cup. His ears went pinker.

“Whatever,” he muttered, and vanished back outside.

~

By the time Bai Yue made it to the central clearing, walking slowly, surrounded by an escort of seven very impatient cubs, the village had been transformed.

It was… actually impressive.

Han Shān had somehow constructed a series of low benches arranged in a semicircle around the main fire pit. Each bench was padded with soft furs. Each fur was perfectly placed for maximum back support.

“Made those,” Han Shān grunted when he saw her looking. “For you. To sit. While watching.”

“They’re… Han Shān, they’re beautiful.”

His ears went pink. He said nothing. He simply positioned himself behind the largest, most padded bench and stood there like a very tall, very pleased bodyguard.

Nearby, Zhāo Yàn was… attempting to help.

“No, no, no,” the Fox Lord was saying to a group of confused wolf warriors. “The markers need to be elegant. We are not savages. We are hosting a cultural event.”

He was decorating the competition areas with colorful vines and flowers. The wolf warriors looked like they wanted to be literally anywhere else.

“Uncle Zhāo Yàn,” A-Li called out, “the flowers are pretty!”

“THANK YOU, A-Li! Finally, someone with TASTE!”

Mo Xiao was overseeing the hunting demonstration area, using his Alpha authority to keep overly excited cubs from starting early. The snake twins had already tried to hide in the tall grass to “practice ambushing,” and had to be extracted by their father.

Yàn Shū had set up a small table covered in scrolls for the riddle competition. He was muttering to himself, rearranging them by difficulty level, his tail twitching with scholarly excitement.

And Hóng Yè?

Hóng Yè was glued to Bai Yue’s side.

He hadn’t said he was going to be. He’d simply…..appeared. Whenever a cub got too rambunctious near her, he’d step in front of them with a glare. Whenever she shifted on her bench, he’d appear with another cushion. Whenever she looked even slightly uncomfortable, he’d materialize with water, tea, or a snack.

“You know I can see you, right?” Bai Yue said mildly after the fourth time.

“See who?”

“You. Being helpful.”

“I’m not being helpful. I’m being… strategically positioned.”

“Strategically positioned to bring me snacks.”

Hóng Yè’s ears went crimson. “The baby needs snacks. I’m not doing this for YOU.”

Bai Yue bit back a smile. “Of course. The baby. My deepest apologies.”

“The baby appreciates my efforts. Unlike SOME people.”

From Bai Yue’s lap, where she’d somehow acquired both Ruì Xuě and Yòu Lín at some point, Yòu Lín piped up. “Hóng Yè, your face is really red. Are you sick?”

“I am FINE.”

“You should sit down,” Ruì Xuě added helpfully. “Mama’s lap is nice. But there’s no more room.”

“I don’t WANT to sit in Mama’s lap.”

“You’re standing really close though.”

“I’m—that’s—I’m PROTECTING. It’s different.”

Bai Yue lost the battle with her smile. She reached out with one hand and tugged Hóng Yè down onto the bench beside her. He went stiff as a board, clearly debating whether to bolt.

“You can protect from here,” she said softly. “It’s okay.”

Hóng Yè said nothing. But he didn’t move away. And when Xiao Hei tried to sneak past him to “borrow” Bai Yue’s drink, Hóng Yè’s arm shot out and blocked him without even looking.

“Hey!”

“Baby’s drink. Get your own.”

Bai Yue hid her smile behind the cup.

~

The hunting demonstration was, objectively, hilarious.

Mo Xiao had set up a series of woven targets shaped like various prey animals. The cubs were supposed to demonstrate their stalking techniques by approaching the targets without making a sound.

A-Li went first. He did beautifully, low to the ground, ears flat, tail perfectly still, until he was three feet from the target, at which point he forgot himself and pounced with a triumphant “RAWR!”

The target collapsed. A-Li looked immensely proud of himself.

“Ten out of ten for enthusiasm,” Mo Xiao declared. “Six out of ten for stealth.”

“I was stealthy until the end!”

“The end is the most important part.”

A-Li considered this. “I’ll allow it.”

Miao Miao went next and was too stealthy, she circled the target for so long that Xiao Hei fell asleep waiting for his turn. When she finally pounced, she was so focused on being quiet that she forgot to actually catch anything and just… stood there.

“Did I win?”

“You confused it to death,” Zhāo Yàn called out. “Very effective. Psychological warfare.”

Miao Miao beamed.

Xiao Hei, woken by his siblings’ cheering, stumbled toward his target, tripped over his own paws, and accidentally tackled it face-first. He looked up, bewildered, as the target crumpled beneath him.

“I… meant to do that?”

“That’s my son,” Mo Xiao sighed, but he was smiling.

~

The riddle competition was…..something.

Yàn Shū had prepared twenty scrolls, each containing a riddle of increasing difficulty. The cubs were supposed to answer them for prizes.

“First riddle,” Yàn Shū announced, adjusting his glasses nervously. “I have a heart that doesn’t beat. I have a home but no door. I can be carved but not held. What am I?”

Silence.

The cubs stared at him.

“A… rock?” Ruì Xuě tried.

“No.”

“A tree?” Yòu Lín offered.

“Incorrect.”

“A really sad rock?” Another wolf cub suggested.

“That’s… not a category.”

From the back, Hóng Yè muttered: “It’s a river stone used in ancestral carvings. The ’heart’ is the core, the ’home’ is the riverbed, and it’s carved by water over time.”

Everyone turned to stare at him.

Hóng Yè’s face went red. “What? I read. It’s not a big deal.”

Yàn Shū looked absolutely delighted. “That’s… that’s exactly right! Hóng Yè, that’s wonderful!”

“It’s NOT wonderful. It’s just—I didn’t—shut up.”

Bai Yue patted his arm. “My brilliant boy.”

“I’m not—I’m not BRILLIANT, I just—” He stopped. Crossed his arms. Pouted. But he didn’t pull away from her touch.

The storytelling circle was, unexpectedly, the biggest hit.

Bai Yue had volunteered to tell a story, something simple, something fun. She chose “The Very Hungry Caterpillar,” mostly because she could remember all the words and it involved food.

The cubs were entranced.

“A caterpillar that EATS everything?!” Yòu Lín’s eyes were huge. “That’s the BEST story!”

“Does he get a stomach ache?” Ruì Xuě asked anxiously.

“He does. A very big one.”

Ruì Xuě nodded solemnly. “Good. He should learn moderation.”

“A-Li needs to hear this story,” Miao Miao muttered.

“I HEARD THAT.”

By the time the caterpillar turned into a butterfly, the cubs were cheering. Even some of the adults had drifted over to listen. Han Shān stood at the edge of the crowd, watching Bai Yue with an expression so soft it barely looked like it belonged on his face.

Zhāo Yàn was pretending not to be moved, but his tails were swaying gently.

Yàn Shū was taking notes. “For the baby,” he explained when Bai Yue caught him. “Stimulation. Development. Scientific purposes.”

“Sure,” Bai Yue laughed.

~

The family feast was chaos.

Every family had brought something. The snake twins’ mother had contributed a massive pot of herbed broth. The crane elders had brought some kind of delicate fish dish. Mo Xiao had roasted an entire wild boar.

And Bai Yue, despite everyone’s protests, had made a small batch of mild spicy noodles.

“They’re for me,” she said firmly. “I’m craving them. The baby wants them. You can’t argue with the baby.”

“No one can argue with you,” Zhāo Yàn muttered, but he was smiling.

They ate. They laughed. The cubs ran in circles until they literally collapsed from exhaustion, curling up in piles of fur around the fire.

Bai Yue sat on her padded bench, surrounded by sleeping cubs, with Hóng Yè still positioned protectively at her side and her three husbands scattered around the clearing, all watching her with varying degrees of obvious affection.

“WELL, WELL, WELL.”

Everyone froze.

Standing at the edge of the clearing, leaning on a gnarled stick with an expression of terrifying glee, was an elderly woman with silver-streaked hair, sharp eyes, and a smile that promised either cookies or violence.

Zhāo Yàn went pale.

Han Shān’s jaw dropped.

Yàn Shū made a sound like a dying teakettle.

And Bai Yue—

“GRANDMA GŪ GŪ?!”

The old woman cackled, raising her stick in triumph.

“Did you think you could have a FAMILY GATHERING and not invite ME?!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep