Warden of the Beast World: Everyone is a Hakimi

When Chi Heng returned to the living quarters, his robe dripping wet, he looked as wilted as a frostbitten eggplant, his tail drooping on the ground, leaving a wet trail behind him. He had already considered all the worst possible outcomes in the corridor, but when he actually reached the courtyard, he still froze.

The outer walls of the living quarters still bore the black marks of the fire, but the charred corners had been neatly rebuilt with bricks. His collapsed stove was being steadily and methodically rebuilt by a hand with distinct knuckles, cement mortar evenly filling the gaps between the bricks. Beside him lay a bucket of freshly mixed fire-retardant paint, a brush resting on the rim, and a silver-gray wolf tail swayed gently behind him with each movement. The hunter wore only a sleeveless robe, the cuffs rolled up to his shoulders, his arms speckled with dust.

Chi Heng stood by the courtyard, watching You Lie squatting on the ground, repairing his burned-down kitchen brick by brick. After a long silence, he finally managed to utter a sentence: "Don't think that just because you're doing this, I won't compete with you for your favor!"

"Stupid bird." Ghost Hunter didn't even turn his head, his tone as indifferent as if he were saying the weather was nice today.

Chi Heng bristled for a moment, but this time he didn't pounce on You Lie to fight. He stood in front of the pile of new bricks, looking at the neatly built stove by You Lie, and the pent-up anger in his chest inexplicably dissipated. He rolled up his wet sleeves, strode over to You Lie, and squatted down beside him: "I made this mess myself, so I'll take responsibility."

Youlie finally stopped what he was doing and turned to look at Chiheng. There was no mockery or disdain in his gray-blue eyes, only a calm scrutiny. He looked at him for a few seconds, then moved half a step to the side, making room for Chiheng.

Chi Heng had never done any manual labor since childhood—the young patriarch of the Vermilion Bird Clan, a spoiled brat raised in luxury, he was too lazy to even pick up a fallen broom, let alone lay bricks. He used too much force from the start, squeezing mortar everywhere between the bricks, creating crooked, worm-like joints. You Lie frowned, removed the crooked bricks, straightened them, and demonstrated the correct mortar thickness.

Chi Heng confidently added two more bricks, but when he poked one with his finger, half of the newly built brick wall collapsed with a crash, also knocking down a corner of the stove that You Lie had just built. He hurriedly went to steady it, but slipped and kicked over a paint bucket, spilling fire-retardant paint all over the floor. The sticky white paint spread along the gaps between the floor tiles, submerging half of the clean ground.

Chi Heng stood in the middle of the mess, his feathers covered in mud, mortar, and white paint, looking like a bird with its feathers ruffled, just pulled from a noodle vat. You Lie glanced at the collapsed stove, then at the mess on the ground, and took a deep breath.

"Besides fighting, what else can you do?"

Chi Heng opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a single word in response. You Lie stood up, walked unhurriedly to Chi Heng, grabbed him by the back of his collar, lifted him from the middle of the mess like a disobedient wolf cub, and then steadily placed him on the other side of the yard.

"Don't delay my work, or Tangtang won't even let you have dinner."

Youlie was indeed efficient at his work. Chiheng stood to the side and watched as those slender hands quickly rebuilt the collapsed stove, smoothing the brick joints cleanly, and even the thickness of the mortar was so even that it looked as if it had been measured with a ruler.

He repainted the walls with fire-retardant paint, wiping the brush back and forth several times until it covered the surface completely, even smoother than before the fire. He even cleaned the paint-splattered floor with cleaning solution, leaving not a trace of white residue in the grout lines of the floor tiles.

Chi Heng was dazzled. Both were the pride of their clans and had been pampered since childhood, so how come You Lie could do everything?

"Youlie, how come you can do everything..." Chiheng squatted next to the newly repaired stove, his tone unusually filled with admiration.

Youlie was squatting on the ground packing up his tools when he heard this and paused. He put the last brush into the toolbox, remained silent for a few seconds, as if recalling a past he didn't want to touch.

"If you had an older brother who was more cunning than a honeycomb briquette, you'd be good at everything too."

Chi Heng blinked, not quite understanding. You Lie closed his toolbox and sat down by the newly repaired stove. He rarely talked about these things with others, but perhaps because he had been fixing the kitchen all afternoon and his head was spinning, or perhaps because Chi Heng's face was unusually free of that smug look, he actually felt that there was nothing wrong with talking about it.

From the moment he could walk, Youming would trick him into doing chores. At that time, Youming was only six or seven years old. He would squat in the backyard of the main house of the Canglang clan and talk nonsense to his younger brother, who was still not very steady on his feet, with a straight face. He would say that every year the clan would select the most powerful little wolf cub, and the selection criterion was who could clean the house the cleanest.

Youlie stared with his big, gray-blue eyes and asked, "Really?" Youming replied, "Of course it's true. Haven't you noticed that Mother hasn't been holding you much lately? It's because you're not as good at housework as your sister." Youlie followed Youming's finger and looked in the yard at the white wolf sister born to his third father. His mother was holding her in her arms. Her white dress was clean, and the bow in her hair was neatly tied.

Youlie believed him. He swept the backyard until it was spotless and cleaned his little nest until it was shinier than a dog had licked. When his mother came to inspect, she looked surprised, squatted down, patted his head, and said, "Our Youlie is really capable." Just that one compliment made him work even harder.

When he was a little older, at the age of twelve, he was tricked by Youming into joining the army. Youming told his family that he was taking his younger brother to gain experience, but in the end, he treated Youlie like a donkey—he was given the job of sewing buttons on military uniforms, the dirty work of repairing toilets, and the hard work of building city walls.

When Youlie refused, Youming leaned against the tent in the military camp, drinking the wine he had stolen from his father, and slowly uttered his infallible saying—"A male beast who can't work won't get married. I'm doing this for your own good." Youlie was only twelve years old at the time, and he believed it. He not only repaired the toilet, but he also repaired it very carefully, thinking that this way, females would want him in the future.

Hearing this, Chi Heng's mouth gaped open. He remembered when he was twelve years old—when he had just learned to burn down the training ground with real fire. After the fire, his grandfather chased him all over the Vermilion Bird Clan. He flew to the rooftop and made faces at his grandfather, who was so angry that his beard stood on end. They were both twelve years old at the same time, but he was burning down houses while You Lie was repairing toilets.

"Your brother is too..." Chi Heng couldn't find the right words for a moment.

"I volunteered to do all the dirty and tiring work," Youlie said in his usual calm and indifferent tone. "It wasn't until I got a little older that I realized something was wrong."

He was already an A-level combatant when he was thirteen, stronger than many adult officers, but his brother still assigned him the job of fixing toilets, saying, "You did the best job fixing toilets during your recruit days, so practice makes perfect."

He stood at the entrance to the military camp's toilet, wrench in hand, when suddenly something felt off—why did he, an A-level combatant, need to fix the toilet? He went back to confront Youming, who squinted his identical grey-blue eyes and smiled innocently: "Ah, you found out."

"You're too easy to fool..." Chi Heng squatted by the newly repaired stove, his hands supporting his chin. For the first time ever, there was no mockery or gloating in his crimson eyes, only a pure and heartfelt sympathy.

He imagined the scene—a young silver wolf, not yet fully grown, with round, bright gray-blue eyes, squatting at the entrance of the military camp toilet, holding a wrench, diligently fixing a water pipe, feeling like he was making a "good male beast that can get married." It was too tragic, truly too tragic.

"What could I do? I was only twelve or thirteen years old back then." Youlie pressed the last brick down firmly, his tone carrying a hint of helplessness that even he himself didn't realize.

"That's true." Chi Heng rarely didn't argue with him. What was he doing when he was twelve or thirteen? He was chasing his cousins ​​around the ancestral home of the Vermilion Bird Clan, breathing fire, burning the elder's beard, and being chased all over the mountain by his grandfather. The hardest and most tiring job was being punished by copying the clan rules, and he would fall asleep on the table after copying less than three lines each time. When he woke up, he would find that his grandfather had finished copying it for him.

Both were prodigies of their clans, but at twelve, Youlie was building toilets and city walls in the Northern Territory, while he was a troublemaker in the Vermilion Bird Clan. Thinking of this, he remembered something else—Youming not only made twelve-year-old Youlie build toilets, but also tricked him into going to the battlefield.

Since we're already here, let's have a fight before we leave. He thought Ye Tang was exaggerating when he first heard her say this, but now, considering the toilet repair incident, it's probably true.

"Besides your brother, no one could bring themselves to send a cub to the battlefield," Chi Heng remarked, then suddenly puffed out his chest and said seriously, "You helped me, so I'll protect you from now on. If your brother bullies you again, I'll burn his wolf fur."

Youlie paused for a moment as he packed up his tools. He looked up at Chiheng's serious face, a faint hint of surprise flashing in his grey-blue eyes.

This silly bird, he's a complete novice himself, yet he wants to protect him. Who is Youming? The commander-in-chief of the Northern Border Defense Line, the Empire's recognized tactical genius, the eldest son of the Canglang Clan who has the entire Northern Alliance completely outmaneuvered. Chiheng, this firebird whose brain is as straight as the Imperial Capital Avenue, probably wouldn't even know how he got tricked by Youming. However, Chiheng's intentions are genuine. Youlie lowered his head, but a faint smile curved his lips.

"If you don't get ripped off by him until you're left with nothing, you're not Chi Heng." Youlie fastened the toolbox, stood up, and dusted off his knees.

Chi Heng's eyes widened, and it took him five seconds for the gears in his brain to whir and rattle before he realized that Youlie was talking about him—that he would be tricked by Youming until he was left with nothing but his underwear!

He was about to jump up and explode in anger, but then he remembered that he had burned down the kitchen earlier that day, causing everyone to have to eat nutritional supplements, and that he had been doused with water by Cangming without daring to retaliate. He immediately wilted back down. Seeing his flustered and cowardly state, Youlie raised his hand and patted him on the head, not hard, about the same force as patting a wolf cub.