Is the closed beta test of King of Loque over? The official release is here!

Turing, the chieftain of the Stone Clan, walked in the middle, his tall body resembling a moving mountain, with Flying Axe, the chieftain of the Wood Clan, and Big Bone, the chieftain of the Bone Clan, following on either side.

And behind them—

Grand Elder!

The elderly man, with gray hair and a face etched with the marks of time, walked slowly towards us, leaning on his wooden cane.

Besides the Grand Elder, there were some other clansmen.

Mu Feng and Mu Qingqing from the carpenter's shop, Elder Mu Yuan from the medicine hut, and some unfamiliar but clearly high-ranking tribal members.

They were carrying wooden buckets and wicker baskets of various sizes.

Wooden barrels contain brewing materials that exude a rich aroma, while wicker baskets are filled with brightly colored fruits.

The noise from the market gradually subsided.

All the indigenous people stopped what they were doing and respectfully made way for them.

The members of all three teams stopped what they were doing and turned their gazes toward the group of figures walking slowly towards them.

Turing walked to the center of the market and raised his hand.

Several young tribal members immediately stepped forward and began piling firewood on the open ground.

Soon, a bonfire was lit in the center of the market.

The flames leaped upwards, burning brighter than the surrounding torches, illuminating the entire market.

The elder walked to the campfire and glanced at everyone present.

"Children."

His voice wasn't loud, but every word was clearly audible to everyone.

"You all did a very good job this time."

The elder's gaze fell on Mo Fan, and a hint of approval flashed in his cloudy eyes.

“Mo Fan, you didn’t hold back, nor did you give selflessly; instead, you made sure everyone benefited. I admire that.” He paused. “That’s the true essence of competition.”

Mo Fan didn't speak, but simply nodded slightly.

The Grand Elder turned around and looked at Niu Kuang and Song Chen.

"You didn't act impulsively, but instead chose to accept Mo Fan's suggestion and consider the team's interests. That's good."

Niu Kuang scratched the back of his head, a rare hint of embarrassment appearing on his rugged face.

Song Chen remained expressionless, but his tense shoulders relaxed slightly.

The elder looked around at everyone, his voice becoming gentler.

"In conclusion, your performance was very good, very good."

He raised his wooden cane and tapped it lightly on the ground.

"Then let's enjoy tonight!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the tribe members cheered in unison.

The wine in the wooden barrel was poured into earthenware bowls, and the fruit in the wicker baskets was distributed to everyone.

The music is ringing.

Someone took out a wooden musical instrument and started playing a cheerful rhythm.

The natives gathered around the campfire and began to dance their traditional tribal dances.

Their movements were primal and powerful; each stomp shook the ground, and each wave of their hands created a whooshing sound.

Murong Jiao's eyes lit up.

"This is so much fun!" She turned to Murong Sha, "Sister, let's go dance too!"

Before Murong Sha could answer, she had already grabbed her sister's hand and rushed into the crowd.

Fang Xu hesitated for a moment, then followed.

On Niu Kuang's side, Tie Dan had already taken off his shirt, revealing his muscular upper body, and was dancing wildly with the natives by the campfire. His movements were incredibly unrestrained.

Er Mao was still half-dead, but he was holding a bowl of wine in his hand and slowly bringing it to his mouth.

Song Chen stood still, without moving.

Lin Sen walked over to him and handed him a bowl of wine.

"Want some?"

Song Chen took it and tilted his head back to gulp it down.

The spicy liquor slid down my throat, bringing with it a burning sensation.

He looked at the laughing figures around the campfire, his lips twitched, but in the end he said nothing.

Mo Fan stood at the edge of the crowd, holding a bowl of wine in his hand.

Elder Mu Yuan walked to his side, a hint of relief on his wrinkled face.

"Good job, kid."

Mo Fan turned his head and looked at the old man.

"Thank you for your guidance, Professor Muyuan."

Mu Yuan waved his hand.

“What guidance? You figured all that out yourself.” He paused. “After all this is over, don’t forget to come over to my place again.”

"Yes."

Mu Yuan patted Mo Fan on the shoulder and turned to walk towards the campfire.

Mo Fan watched the old man's retreating figure and took a sip of his drink.

The bonfire was burning, the aroma of roasted meat filled the air, and laughter and chatter created a lively atmosphere.

The natives sang songs that Mo Fan couldn't understand and danced dances that Mo Fan couldn't comprehend, but the joy they felt from the bottom of their hearts was something everyone could feel.

Murong Jiao twirled through the crowd, her yellow twin ponytails swinging in beautiful arcs.

Fang Xu followed behind her, clumsily imitating the natives' movements, which drew good-natured laughter from those around him.

Murong Sha stood by the campfire, her blue ponytail gleaming softly in the firelight.

She didn't dance; she just watched quietly.

Niu Kuang, on the other hand, was already flushed from drinking, with his arms around the shoulders of two natives, howling a song of unknown tune.

Tie Dan joined in the commotion, while Er Mao sat in the corner, slowly munching on a piece of roasted meat.

Song Chen remained standing in the same spot, but the wine bowl in his hand was now empty.

Lin Sen poured him another bowl.

"Relax," Lin Sen pushed up his glasses. "The outcome is already decided, enjoy the moment."

Song Chen remained silent for a moment, then picked up the bowl and downed it in one gulp.

Night was falling.

The campfire was still burning brightly, but the laughter gradually subsided.

Some people started sitting on the ground, leaning against their companions and dozing off.

Some people were still circling the campfire, their movements noticeably slow.

Mo Fan had no idea how many bowls of wine he had drunk.

He only remembered Murong Jiao pulling him into a strange dance, Fang Xu getting drunk and hugging him while crying, saying, "Brother Mo Fan, you're such a good person," and Murong Sha standing quietly beside him, saying nothing, just accompanying him to finish the last bowl of wine.

My last memory is of the campfire gradually dying out and the starry sky appearing overhead.

Everyone had forgotten when they returned to their lodgings.

......

The next day.

Inside the wooden house.

Murong Jiao and the others slowly woke up.

Outside the window, the sun shines brightly, and birds chirp.

The air was filled with a fresh scent.

"Ah~"

Murong Jiao stretched out a big yawn, her yellow twin ponytails gleaming golden in the sunlight.

"It's another beautiful day!"

She jumped out of bed, looking full of energy, showing no signs of having drunk a lot the night before.

Fang Xu rubbed his eyes and sat up on the other bed, his face still a little dazed from a hangover.

"Last night was absolutely wonderful, haha, I haven't had this much fun in ages!"

He scratched his head, recalling the laughter around the campfire last night, and a smile unconsciously crept onto his face.

Murong Sha sat up in bed, her blue ponytail slightly disheveled, but her delicate face remained calm as still water.

"Today is the day the competition results are announced." Her voice was calm, yet it brought everyone to a more sober state. "Let's go to the market."

Mo Fan was already standing by the window, with his back to the three of them.

He looked at the sunlight outside the window, said nothing, and simply nodded slightly.

The four tidied up quickly, pushed open the door of the wooden house, and headed towards the market.

The air in the Pandonog tribe is exceptionally fresh in the early morning.

Traces of last night's bonfire party still lingered in the center of the market—the bonfire had been extinguished, leaving only a ring of charred charcoal and ashes.

Empty wine bowls and fruit peels were scattered around, and several young natives were cleaning them up.

Mo Fan and his three companions walked to the edge of the market and chose a spot to stand.