That evening, after dinner, Baixue held little Pea in her arms, smiling happily. She felt she had made a very good decision.

However, her good mood faded quickly after she saw the broken milk bottle and bath basin belonging to the baby panda, Tuantuan.

“Brother Cheng, did Tuantuan go back?”

Lying on the heated brick bed, Baixue leaned against Han Cheng, speaking softly. Her thoughts seemed to drift far away, into a bamboo forest somewhere.

“Mm, went back. Climbing trees with its mother...”

Han Cheng responded casually, clearly making things up.

...

“Go to sleep. You still have weaving to do tomorrow...”

The two of them lay there, chatting idly, talking about the panda for quite a while.

“Okay,”

Baixue replied gently. She closed her eyes in the darkness and only fell asleep after quite some time.

Han Cheng also drifted off. Inside and outside the tribe, everything fell into peaceful silence.

It was the end of April, and there was no moon that night. The deep, clear night sky, brilliant and mysterious, sparkled with countless stars.

On the wall, a sentry stretched and began pacing in a small circle to stay awake.

The night was calm and quiet, occasionally broken by the croaks of frogs in the drainage ditch near the wall.

“Awooo—”

The howling of wolves shattered the calm night. The sleepy guards immediately snapped to alert, gripping their weapons tightly and peering outside the wall.

But without moonlight, visibility was poor—they could only make out a short distance ahead, and even that was blurry.

Even straining their eyes wide wouldn’t help much.

“Awooo—”

The barking of dogs soon followed. Instead of calming, it grew louder. More and more dogs joined in.

The chorus of barking was full of warning. Some dogs scratched furiously at the main gate, eager to rush out—a response to some detected danger.

With such a ruckus, the guards didn’t even need to bang the alarm gong. People inside, startled from their sleep, quickly woke up. After brief confusion, they began getting up one after another.

The darkness heightened everyone’s fear and caused some chaos. Even with the senior brother shouting, things remained disorderly.

Han Cheng was also jolted awake. Hearing the chaotic noise, a wave of dread swept through him.

Was this a surprise night raid from another tribe?

Or were the slaves from the outer compound staging a rebellion under the cover of darkness?

He shot upright in bed, paying no mind to little Pea, who had also been awakened and was now wailing loudly.

“Hold the baby tight!”

He hurriedly instructed Baixue, grabbed his fire striker, and rushed outside, nearly crashing into the shaman stumbling out in a panic.

“Div—Divine Child, what’s happening…?”

Han Cheng helped the shaman up, who was visibly worried. The old man didn’t want anything bad to happen to the tribe.

“I don’t know yet.”

Han Cheng replied while supporting the shaman. Once outside, seeing the panicked crowd, he struck his fire striker and blew it to life, raising it high and shouting:

“Don’t panic! Don’t panic! Come to me!”

That small flame in the darkness became a beacon, guiding the frightened crowd like a lighthouse.

His commanding voice had an effect, and people began rushing toward him.

“Quiet! Quiet!”

Han Cheng kept yelling. Gradually, the chaos settled down.

Someone brought some firewood, and Han Cheng lit it using the fire striker. The rising orange flames illuminated the crowd, driving away the last of their fear.

Looking at their Divine Child standing beside the fire, the people of the Green Sparrow Tribe felt a calm settle over them. Yes, with the Divine Child here, what was there to fear?

It was strange—Han Cheng’s combat skills were only mid-tier at best in the tribe. Yet whenever danger loomed, even the most seasoned warriors felt reassured by his presence.

As long as he was around, fear seemed to fade.

This odd fact didn’t seem strange to anyone in the tribe. To them, it felt only natural.

Once order was restored, Han Cheng assigned tasks. The eldest senior brother and the Third senior brother were to lead some men onto the wall, and others were told to guard the main gate with weapons.

He strictly forbade anyone from opening the gate.

He also sent Chang Tui ahead to shout toward the slave compound near the wall to confirm if the commotion was coming from the slaves.

Han Cheng’s mind raced. He suspected that the slaves were the most likely source of the disturbance.

No tribe would attack at night without reason, especially if there were no grievance or conflict.

If it were a slave rebellion, some heads would have to roll tomorrow.

These fools—had life gotten too comfortable for them?

Han Cheng clenched his fists, his thoughts sharp.

Torches were soon lit across the tribe. These had been made earlier from discarded hemp cloth mixed with pine resin and animal fat. They burned bright and hot, much better than oil lamps for this situation.

“Div—Divine Child, they… they’re fine!”

Chang Tui came back panting, interrupting Han Cheng’s dark thoughts.

Han Cheng breathed a little easier, his fierce resolve softening. At least they hadn’t bitten the hand that fed them.

Otherwise, they would’ve learned a painful lesson.

“What’s attacking the tribe?”

Han Cheng asked while heading toward the wall.

“Don’t… don’t know…”

Chang Tui had been focused on calling out to the slave compound and had not checked what was actually happening outside.

“I’ll go look again—”

Chang Tui bolted off with his natural advantage before Han Cheng could respond.

Han Cheng had two people help the shaman, and he led others quickly toward the wall.

The eldest senior brother and others looked worried on top of the wall. Due to the darkness, they couldn’t see far—even with torches, visibility was poor.

“Throw a few torches out!”

Once on the wall, Han Cheng moved away from the torchbearers and gave a loud order.

Of course, once he got up there, he had to keep a distance from the torches—after all, torchlight made a perfect target in situations like this.