Xue visited Lia and Bei first, informing them of the food Ziqian had prepared. He also went to visit several elders, offering a rare invitation to share the meal. As he made his way back, he didn't forget about the trio either—he had noticed how close Ziqian was with those three females, and he wanted them included as well.
As for the crowd from earlier, Xue had intended to invite them after the meal was halfway through.
What he didn't expect was that when he returned, the group of people were already eagerly waiting outside the tent, each of them clutching their bowls. Their eyes were sparkling with anticipation, their expressions brimming with barely restrained hunger.
The sight made Xue's brows knit together, but he said nothing. With this many people, the small tent would be crowded.
"Ah, you're back, Xue!" Ziqian's voice rang out, light and warm. He peeked out with a radiant smile.
Xue's stern gaze softened for a moment at the sight, but he didn't want to trouble Ziqian with the sudden influx of people.
Without wasting words, he acted quickly. Together with Gal and Dio, they carried several large, flat rocks from the edge of the tribe and set them down in a semicircle under the night sky. Soon, the rocks formed makeshift tables sturdy enough to bear the weight of the foods.
By the time Ziqian came out carrying the first steaming dish, the rocks were ready. The warm glow of firelight touched his face, and for a moment, the crowd fell silent. His smile was soft and genuine, and in that instant, the fragrance of the food almost seemed secondary to the charm of the one who had made it.
"Let's put everything here," Ziqian said, setting down the sautéed bitter melon.
Lia and the trio help in carrying the dishes out one by one, setting them carefully on the flat stones that served as the table.
The moment the lids were lifted, rich aromas spilled into the night air, carrying with it the rich fragrance of broth, the savory crispness of fried meats, and the tangy sweetness of stir-fried vegetables.
Gasps rose from the group.
"It looks amazing…" one of the females whispered, clutching her bowl tighter.
"It smells even better than before," another beast added, saliva pooling in his mouth.
Their eyes darted from dish to dish, stomachs growling audibly. Even beasts couldn't hide the way their gazes clung greedily to the food, the children's wide eyes shimmering with excitement.
"Can we eat now?" Tin anxiously asked. She had already eaten before coming back to Ziqian's tent, but when she smelled the fragrant aroma rising from the dishes again, her stomach betrayed her with a loud growl.
"Calm down, or I'll tie you with a rope," Qiu snapped, brows twitching. Tin's constant fidgeting at her side was driving her mad.
Normally, Tin would fight back, but this time she didn't even glance at Qiu. She simply scooted closer to Yan, her eyes fixed firmly on the food. Her energy was too precious to waste on bickering—every bit of it was now devoted to resisting the urge to pounce on the table.
Yan chuckled softly, patting Tin's arm. "Just a little more patience. Let Ziqian say the word first."
At that, several others nodded in agreement, though their eyes, too, kept drifting toward the spread of dishes, hands tightening around the bowls they carried.
Ziqian stood at the front, his smile warm as the dishes were laid out on the makeshift stone table. One by one, he introduced each dish, explaining the plants and the types of monsters used in cooking them. His voice carried both pride and excitement, making even the simplest ingredients sound precious.
The more they listened, the more surprised they became. Murmurs rippled through the crowd—admiration, disbelief, and awe all mixed together. To them, these were just ordinary plants that can't be eaten raw or boiled, yet in Ziqian's hands they had been transformed into dishes fragrant enough to make their stomachs rumble and their mouths water. Even the white fat that they discarded became something useful.
When he finished, Ziqian clasped his hands together. "Alright, everyone. Please line up and choose one dish you want to try first. As long as there's still food left, you can come back for another serving or taste the others."
The crowd hurriedly lines up with laughter and eager chatter.
Watching them shuffle into line, Ziqian suddenly had a flash of memory from his old world—standing with a dented tin tray in his hands, waiting for a ladle of watery soup during his middle school's feeding program. He chuckled to himself.
It feels exactly the same… a feeding program for malnourished students.
But this time, he wasn't the hungry child waiting at the end of the line. This time, he was the one giving.
Xue, standing close by, quietly observed the way Ziqian's lips curved in suppressed laughter. The beast didn't understand the thought behind that smile, but the warmth it carried struck him deeply.
Ziqian had arranged a place for the tribe heads and elders inside the tent, wanting to show them respect, but they gently declined. Instead, they joined the others outside.
As soon as everyone started eating, the lively chatter and laughter melted into silence. The only sounds left were the clatter of bowls and the hurried munching of food, as if each person feared the taste might vanish if they didn't eat quickly enough.
Then, after a few minutes, a voice suddenly broke out.
"Delicious!" someone shouted with unrestrained joy.
"More! I want more!" another person quickly followed.
The moment the first bowls emptied, the crowd surged again, unable to resist.
Xue, who already predicted this, stepped forward before the crowd could overwhelm Ziqian. With a single, decisive motion, Xue placed himself between the dishes and the eager hands reaching for more.
"Can I have one more?" someone begged.
"I want to taste the others!" another chimed in.
"Me too! I want more!"
The press of bodies and eager voices turned the air restless. For a brief moment, the crowd seemed to forget who stood before them—not the kind and smiling Ziqian, but the young patriarch, whose cold presence usually kept them at a distance.
Xue's expression was calm, but his eyes were sharp, silencing a few who dared move too quickly. "Line up," his voice was cold and firm, leaving no room for argument. "Everyone will get their turn."
Ziqian, seeing how quickly things could have gotten out of control, quietly set another bowl in front of the closest elder with a gentle smile. "Don't worry. As long as you wait your turn, you'll all be able to try the other dish."
The contrast between Xue's stern authority and Ziqian's soft reassurance settled the restless group, like a balance of winter steel and spring warmth. The line slowly reformed, the crowd obediently waiting once more, though their eyes never left the steaming dishes.
Curious faces began appearing at the edge of the gathering. Passersby, drawn by the mouthwatering aroma and the commotion, stopped in their tracks.
"Why is everyone here?"
Upon seeing their patriarch and high priest, more and more people came to inquire.
"What's happening?"
"It smells amazing…"
"Is that food?" someone whispered.
Then they saw Tin emerge from the line with a bowl of unknown food, clutching it as though it were a priceless treasure. She crouched at the side, devouring it like a starving beast, not even pausing to breathe between bites. Before anyone could react, she licked her lips, hugged her empty bowl, and—without the slightest hesitation—slipped right back into the line again, eyes blazing with determination.
"…She's…lining up again?" the female murmured in disbelief.
The sight left the onlookers stunned for a moment. Then realization hit them all at once. Everyone knew how Tin loves to eat. If Tin was that desperate to get more, the food must be beyond ordinary.
Their hesitation dissolved instantly. Bowls in hand, they pushed forward toward the growing crowd, unwilling to be left behind.
If they lingered too long asking questions, there would be nothing left for them. More and more people mimicked Tin, darting into the line with their bowls, wolfing down mouthfuls, then shamelessly circling back for another try. Their eyes gleamed with desperation, as though this might be the last time they'd ever taste something so good.
The passersby who had hesitated soon regretted it bitterly. They could only watch the lucky ones savor the food.
A young beast who arrived late managed to scoop the very last spoonful of broth into his bowl. Those behind him froze, staring at the empty cauldron.
"It's gone…" one muttered, clutching his empty bowl.
Ziqian stood a little stunned at how quickly the food had disappeared. He hadn't expected the tribe to devour everything with such frenzy.
"Is there anything left?" a beast asked.
"There is nothing left. The ingredients were limited. I could only make this much for now. I'm sorry," Ziqian said softly, his voice laced with genuine regret.
"Why are you apologizing? We were the ones who benefitted from your hard work. We should be thanking you," Elder Yun, a one-eyed beast, sternly said. His voice carried both authority and a reprimand.
Lia approached and clasped Ziqian's hands with surprising gentleness, offering a faint smile that contrasted the tension in the air. "Thank you for the delicious food," Lia said softly. "You should rest now… it will help your bruises heal faster."
The crowd fell into silence, stunned into stillness.
Only now did they remember that Ziqian had been injured and carried back unconscious in Xue's arms, and yet, despite his condition, he had still prepared food for them earlier.
A ripple of guilt spread through the gathered people. Following their high priest's example, they stepped forward one by one.
"Thank you, Ziqian."
"We ate so well today. Thank you, Ziqian."
"Rest well, please."
The unified chorus of thanks rolled through the air.
Ziqian's lips curved in a gentle arc, and his eyes warmed like a spring breeze. "It makes me happy to see everyone enjoyed the food I made. That's thanks enough for me."
Those simple words made the crowd's admiration for Ziqian grow heavier in their hearts.