Lin Huahua’s face became so hot that she nearly squeaked.

Then, because she was too embarrassed to handle his shamelessness with words, she lifted one foot and stomped right on his.

Or at least, she tried.

The problem was that Feng Yiren was a beastman, and his body was much too strong, so her stomp did absolutely nothing except make her own leg bounce a little.

He looked down at her foot.

Then at her face.

And for one second he clearly wanted to say it. He wanted to say, you see? That is why you should not challenge me.

But before he could open his mouth, he noticed that Mu Qingyi and Hu Baiyu were both looking at him.

Not casually either.

They were glaring.

The message was very clear.

Do not say it.

And you better act like you’re in pain.

Feng Yiren rolled his eyes dramatically, then instantly clutched himself and said, "Ow. Aiyo. That was so painful. I think my bones have shattered. I may never walk again."

Lin Huahua stared at him.

Then her ears twitched in outrage. "You shameless fox! I did not even do anything."

Feng Yiren grinned and stepped back just as she reached toward him again. "Exactly. That is why it was so tragic."

Tu Xiaotao burst into laughter so hard she almost folded over. Mao Qingyue’s tail moved once in amusement. Even Lang Yinzhi’s lips twitched.

Lin Huahua felt that this tribe was truly full of terrible people.

She was just about to continue scolding Feng Yiren when a deep sound suddenly rolled across the tribe.

It was not a horn.

It was not a drum exactly either.

It was the heavy hollow sound made when the gathering stone was struck, and the moment it rang out, the whole tribe changed at once.

People stopped talking.

Males straightened.

Females looked toward the open gathering space near the central stones.

Everyone knew what that sound meant.

A tribe call.

An important one.

And with the snake beastman rumor rushing around like wind through dry leaves, no one needed to ask why the Rat King had called for it.

Tu Xiaotao’s excitement dimmed a little. Mao Qingyue’s ears turned toward the sound. Lang Yinzhi’s tail lowered again.

All around them, tribe members began moving.

The busy little paths between cave houses and work areas filled with beast people heading in the same direction. Some carried baskets they forgot to put down, some wiped blood from their hands after skinning prey, some hurried with cubs tucked under one arm, and some males automatically moved their females closer to their own sides as they walked.

Mu Qingyi touched Lin Huahua’s shoulder again and said softly, "We need to go."

Hu Baiyu took one look at her feet and was clearly already preparing to carry her.

Feng Yiren’s red fox ears flicked sharply as his eyes narrowed, his tail swishing once with clear irritation as he stepped forward and reached for her waist without hesitation.

"Why must you be the one to carry her again?" he said, voice low and annoyed, already trying to pull her toward himself. "I want to carry her."

Hu Baiyu looked at him with a completely blank lion face.

Then he bent anyway.

Lin Huahua saw it and quickly said, "No, no, I can walk."

She was not lying either. The path to the gathering space was shorter and flatter than the river path, and she did not want every person in the tribe staring at her while she was carried like some useless cub.

Even so, Hu Baiyu still reached down and checked her feet with one brief touch first before letting her stand fully, and when he saw that the skin was no longer bleeding, only red and tender, he finally allowed it.

Then all of them started toward the gathering space together.

And the whole tribe, with its smoke, noise, wild scents, shirtless muscular males, beast ears, flicking tails, tense glances, and growing unease, moved with them.

By the time Lin Huahua and her three males reached the gathering ground, the entire tribe had already formed a wide half-circle around the raised stone platform in the center, and the air felt completely different from before.

Only a little while ago the paths had still carried morning chatter, teasing, work sounds, and the ordinary rough liveliness of a primitive beast tribe.

Now all of that had thinned into something tighter. People still moved, but they moved with purpose. Mothers kept their cubs closer. Males stood nearer to their females than before.

Even the old beastwomen who usually had too much time and too many opinions were not gossiping loudly anymore. They were whispering instead, their eyes flicking toward the forest edges, toward the warriors, toward their daughters.

The gathering ground itself was a broad open space ringed by old stones blackened from past fires and meetings.

Spears rested against a low rock wall to one side, baskets of herbs and dried roots had been hurriedly set down and forgotten near another, and several broad animal hides had been spread over flatter stones where elders usually sat.

The dust underfoot was packed hard from generations of paws, feet, claws, hooves, and restless pacing. Above them all, the sky looked clear and bright, which somehow made the unease worse. Danger always felt ruder under a good sky.

The Rat King stood on the raised stone already, and even before Lin Huahua’s feet fully crossed into the gathering ground, memories stirred in her mind again, making her pause for half a breath.

This was not her father from the sci-fi world, though this rat king’s title still carried the same impossible weight.

The Rat King was tall for a rat beastman, broad-shouldered, sharp-eyed, and powerful in the way only a long-ruling male could be. Dark markings curled faintly over his arms, and the three stripes around one arm stood out clearly enough that no one here would ever dare forget what he was.