Becoming a Leader in a Primitive Otherworld - Chapter 8

Xie Yu’s words startled the tribe members, their mouths gaping like bird eggs. “Chief, how will we build the houses?”

Xie Yu waved her hand. “It’s a bit complicated to explain. We’ll start building as soon as we arrive, and you’ll see soon enough.”

The next morning, the dew still clung to the grass.

Even as they prepared to depart, the tribe members were still discussing their new settlement.

Ke proudly declared, “It’s become so beautiful, completely different from what I remember.”

“How beautiful?” A young cub’s eyes widened. “Is it prettier than the Priest?”

Two of the four who had visited the new settlement struggled to answer.

How could you compare such things?

Impatient for Ke and Li’s response, the cubs darted like the wind to Xie Yu, who had just emerged from the cave. “Chief, which is prettier—the new settlement or the Priest?”

Xie Yu paused, then smiled. “The new settlement is more beautiful than any other we’ve seen. But in my heart, the Priest is the most beautiful of all.”

Good thing Yun Nai isn’t here, she thought privately. I’d be too embarrassed to say that otherwise.

The cubs nodded vigorously, only half understanding, but they grasped that their Chief loved both.

Hearing this, Ke nodded in enthusiastic agreement with Xie Yu. She pointed her thumb at Li and said to Lian, “The Chief is absolutely right—it’s incredibly beautiful there. If I’m lying, Li will give you a small piece of venison.”

“You’re so wicked, Ke! You’re even more cunning than a fox!” Lian exclaimed, her face full of surprise. “Why Li’s venison?”

Ke accepted Lian’s description with composure. “Because I’m not lying! That’s why I dare swear on Apam using Li’s venison. Li would definitely vouch for me too, since he never lies either.”

“But what if it really is beautiful?” Ke asked triumphantly, looking at Lian. Though Lian was younger, that didn’t stop Ke from teasing her occasionally.

Lian trusted their judgment implicitly, especially Yun Nai’s. Playing along with Ke’s teasing, she retorted, “Then Ping’s share of meat will go to you.”

“You’re even worse!” Ke’s eyes curved into crescents. “Ping isn’t even here right now!”

The Shadow Tribe began organizing their migration. After packing their belongings, the members bid a reluctant farewell to their long-standing settlement.

When emotions ran high, the tribe members often expressed their purest, most intense, and most direct spiritual feelings through powerful songs and wild, beautiful dances.

This was almost an instinct rooted in their way of life. But with conditions temporarily unfavorable for dancing, they instead raised their voices in a resounding chant that echoed through the air:

Wuheng Bapuye—

To evade the unpredictable spring rain, each member of the Tribe carried a large lotus leaf.

These leaves were deep green, resembling the lotus leaves Xie Yu had seen in her previous life. However, these were wider, thicker, and had longer stems, making them natural umbrellas that rarely tore.

Yun Nai wore a soft, silvery-white wolf pelt draped over her shoulders. This was the very pelt Xie Yu had spent considerable time preparing, stripped from the Snow Wolf King she had fought to the death.

The wolf pelt had been processed during the bitter winter months. Xie Yu had repeatedly pounded it in the icy mountain spring water, then carefully warmed it over a fire mixed with fragrant herbs, following the Tribe’s ancient method to remove the wolf’s pungent odor.

Whether physical weakness was an inherent trait of priests remained uncertain, as Luo had also been frail in life.

Xie Yu didn’t want Yun Nai to fall ill.

She tightened the wolf pelt around Yun Nai, her concern deepening as she gazed at Yun Nai’s skin, so different from the Tribe’s. She worried that Yun Nai’s delicate constitution made her vulnerable to the cold, as Yun Nai was anything but robust.

“Priest, you need to exercise more,” Xie Yu whispered into Yun Nai’s ear as she leaned down. “Otherwise, you’ll get sick easily.”

Yun Nai murmured in acknowledgment, awkwardly turning her head away, leaving Xie Yu with a view of the back of her head.

The entire Tribe, families and all, was moving together. To ensure no one got lost, Xie Yu counted heads. Including herself and Yun Nai, there were thirty-three people.

Among them were five children, who were considered by the Tribe to be like cubs among beasts—the Tribe valued future strength above all else. It was for this reason that Chief Song had taken Du in long ago.

There used to be more cubs, but some had died in accidents, such as the mudslide two years prior that buried two of them.

These cubs were typically raised communally by the Tribe, and Xie Yu, as the only biological daughter of the former Chief, was no exception. Thus, Yu had grown up alongside Ke and Li, especially Ke, with whom she shared a close bond.

As for Ping, at twenty-three years old, she was considered relatively old. In this era, people rarely lived past their forties, and reaching fifty was considered a long life.

Among the group, Lian and Yan were the youngest. Due to Lian’s lively nature, the others tended to dote on her.

Unlike Ke, who was passionate yet mature, Lian possessed the fearless impulsiveness of a newborn calf.

Ping had always been particularly fond of the younger generation. Being five years older than Lian, she had taken Lian on her first hunting expedition when Lian was sixteen, where Lian had successfully hunted her first pheasant.

The other three individuals who had lost their hunting abilities had lost arms, but all assured that their injuries wouldn’t hinder their progress on the journey.

Xie Yu led the way, while Ping and Li took charge of the rear. If anyone fell behind, Li would help carry them for a stretch—carrying one or two people for short distances was no burden for him.

Ke and Lian oversaw the middle section. They were good with the young ones, able to soothe their moods and easily help them up after stumbles.

Yan darted between the front, middle, and rear, lending a hand wherever needed.

Fortunately, it was early spring. Though the long journey was tiring, they didn’t sweat much. Besides, traveling was far less strenuous than hunting.

They followed the same route Xie Yu had taken before, estimating it would take the entire tribe five days to complete.

On the first day, the tribe members were full of enthusiasm, especially Lian and Yan, who were brimming with energy.

“Yan, come help!” Lian called urgently, waving him over.

Yan jogged over, puzzled. “Which one needs carrying? The kids are keeping up so well, they’ll be chasing down antelopes soon!”

Ke teased, “Lian wants to switch places with you. She’s been with the little ones too long and wants to run to the back for a bit.” Yan’s face lit up with understanding, and he readily took Lian’s place.

Lian had just caught up to the back of the group when he saw Li carrying an injured woman on his back, drenched in sweat. She was clearly struggling to keep up with the tribe’s pace.

He glanced at Ping beside him, who was breathing steadily. “Ping, are you tired? Want me to carry you on my shoulders?”

“No need,” Ping replied, inwardly pleased with the young cub she had raised, who could now stand on his own. “Let’s head back.”

Lian scratched his head. He seemed to have wanted to say something, but the interruption had made him forget.

By the third day, most of the tribe members were helping each other.

Some rode on their partners’ shoulders, while others were carried by their companions.

Men carried women, women carried men, men carried men, and women carried women—the variety was endless, the movements diverse, but all were undeniably wild.

Fortunately, the Shadow Tribe was small. Aside from the former chief, no one had multiple bonded partners, most pairs being one-on-one. Otherwise, the commotion would likely have been even more chaotic.

“Chief, why don’t you carry the Priest?” Ke suggested, gesturing toward Xie Yu walking ahead. She thought the chief didn’t know how to please her partner.

As for why Xie Yu was carrying Yun Nai, it was obvious: the Priest’s body was too frail.

Ke had revered Luo, and after his death, that reverence had transferred to Yun Nai. Consequently, she instinctively took great care of Yun Nai.

Xie Yu glanced at Yun Nai’s legs. Though protected by tree bark and animal hides, walking this far must be uncomfortable. Xie Yu herself was used to it.

She noticed a faint flush on Yun Nai’s ears and had an idea: once they settled into their new camp, she would make sure Yun Nai exercised regularly.

Yun Nai rarely exercised, and Xie Yu had hoped this journey would serve as a workout for her.

“Priest, do you need help?” Xie Yu asked, moving closer to her Priest.

Yun Nai lowered her gaze. “I can manage,” she replied, her voice as clear and cool as a mountain spring. As if explaining, she added, “I don’t like being carried.”

“Then I’ll carry you, Priest.”

“Thank you, Chief,” Yun Nai refused again, but softened her tone. “If I get tired, I’ll ask for your help.”

“Alright, Priest,” Xie Yu said, feeling a strange sense of disappointment.

Time flew by like a spinning top. By the fifth day, the sun was directly overhead as they emerged from the small forest.

“Wow!” The group erupted in joyful shouts. Some had been here before, but the changes were so drastic it was unrecognizable.

The young ones and younger tribe members rushed to the riverbank, cupping water to splash on their friends’ faces.

Lian jumped with excitement. “Ke, Ping will give you a piece of deer meat!”

At the back of the line, Ping, diligently following along, completely unaware, and now missing a piece of deer meat, simply replied, “…Mm.”