Chapter 212: Food Burial—Scared to Tears
Although a certain beast’s words were blunt and crude, Nan Xun was in a good mood and didn’t bother arguing with it. She curved her lips into a smile and said, “Little Eight, I really like the world you picked for me. Thank you.”
Little Eight snorted. “When have I ever treated you badly?”
Nan Xun suddenly remembered something. Since Little Eight was around, she hurriedly asked, “Little Eight, does the cannibal tribe really eat people? You were just scaring me last time, right? I’ve been here for so long and have never seen them eat anyone. Even the rumors about eating raw meat are wrong—they just have some people who prefer half-cooked meat, that’s all.”
Little Eight was silent for a moment before saying, “I really didn’t lie to you. They do eat people. They just haven’t encountered the situation yet.”
Nan Xun shook her head. “A few days ago, an elderly person in the tribe passed away. A-Mang and the others just buried her. They didn’t eat her at all.”
Little Eight was hesitating over whether to explain why the cannibal tribe didn’t eat that person when, at that very moment, A-Mang and the others returned.
Nan Xun and the women hurried out to greet them, but before they had taken more than a few steps, the women’s expressions changed.
This time, the men’s expressions were very wrong. They were all solemn—one or two of them even had reddened eyes.
Two men carried a blood-soaked man to the center of the tribe’s open ground.
The man had clearly been bitten by some wild beast. Half of his right arm was gone, and a large chunk of flesh had been torn from his left leg. He had already stopped breathing.
Everyone silently looked at the fallen warrior, the atmosphere sinking into extreme gloom.
The warrior’s woman and children wailed loudly. The woman tried to rush forward but was stopped by another man who claimed her.
Nan Xun’s emotions were also dragged down by the tragic atmosphere. Perhaps because she hadn’t seen any casualties since arriving, the sudden sight of someone killed by a wild beast made the sadness and regret feel twice as intense.
A-Mang looked at the gathered tribespeople, suddenly raised the spear in his hand high, and shouted, “Our cannibal tribe’s warrior, A Lei, died in battle with a wild beast! He deserves the highest burial of our tribe—food burial! From this day on, A Lei will be with us every day!”
The moment Nan Xun heard the words “food burial,” a terrible premonition rose in her heart.
Then, right before her eyes, A-Mang chopped off A Lei’s head with a sharp crack. He placed the head atop a tall pile of stones. A Lei’s limbs were cut into pieces by the tribespeople and placed over the fire to roast. Once the meat was cooked, everyone divided it up and ate it clean—women included.
Nan Xun’s eyes widened, her mouth falling open.
Her stomach churned violently, nausea surging up her throat.
She ran alone to a corner and vomited violently.
By the end, she was even throwing up bile, yet the numb, crawling sensation all over her body didn’t ease in the slightest.
Little Eight coughed lightly and added what it had been hesitating to say earlier. “Actually, it’s like this—the cannibal tribe doesn’t eat tribe members who die from illness or old age. Those deaths aren’t considered glorious. They greatly revere warriors who die fighting for food, and they only eat the flesh of such warriors.”
Nan Xun was still retching, her legs so weak she could barely stand.
“Little Eight, heh… I actually saw people eating people. That head—crack—A-Mang chopped it off in one strike. Then those human-shaped limbs were dismembered in no time. They were roasting their companion’s flesh, gnawing eagerly on meat that still clearly looked like arms and legs. It’s so disgusting—really disgusting. I honestly can’t accept it!”
She had just seen A-Mang gnawing on more than half of a human arm. Nan Xun decided she wouldn’t let him kiss her for half a month—the image was far too overwhelming.
Little Eight was deeply sympathetic. “I originally wanted you to live well with the Child of Fate, eating and drinking happily. I didn’t expect you to get mixed up with the cannibal tribe’s chieftain. That really isn’t my fault.”
Through tears, Nan Xun said, “I don’t blame you. I blame A-Mang—why does he have to be the chieftain of the cannibal tribe!”
Nan Xun wanted to muddle through this quietly, but she didn’t know which bastard suddenly called her name.
She walked over on unsteady legs and found A Xiang looking at her with disdain, saying loudly to everyone, “It seems A Xi hasn’t eaten any meat yet. What’s wrong, A Xi? Do you look down on a warrior who died fighting for food?”
A-Mang’s brows knitted tightly. He suddenly walked over, took Nan Xun’s hand, and said with some hesitation, “A Xi hasn’t been here long and isn’t used to our cannibal tribe’s customs yet. This time, she won’t eat.”
A Xiang sneered. “A-Mang, you can’t show favoritism just because she’s your woman. On my second day in the tribe, I encountered a food burial. I didn’t want to eat at first either, but why didn’t you let me skip it back then?”
As soon as A Xiang finished speaking, A Bao chimed in. “Exactly, A-Mang. You can’t favor A Xi. She’s already a member of our cannibal tribe—naturally, she has to adapt to our customs.”
Nan Xun didn’t want to make things difficult for A-Mang. She wanted to nod and agree—but eating human flesh was something she truly couldn’t do.
After hearing A Xiang’s words and looking at the silent tribespeople, A-Mang’s expression turned stern. He immediately took a piece of roasted meat from his own fire and, without another word, pushed it toward Nan Xun’s mouth.
Nan Xun kept backing away, her lips clamped tightly shut. She looked at A-Mang pitifully, shaking her head hard, her small face filled with grievance.
But A-Mang didn’t waver. One hand was already gripping her chin, forcing her mouth open.
At that moment, Nan Xun felt utterly crushed. What hurt even more was that A-Mang had listened to A Xiang and forced her to eat human flesh. Even a gentle word of coA-Xing would have been better—but he hadn’t done that.
Such a solemn food burial made A-Mang unusually grave and unsmiling.
Nan Xun blankly opened her mouth, mechanically chewing the “human flesh” inside.
But after a short while, her eyes flickered. She glanced at A-Mang subtly.
Meeting the man’s gaze, she saw the tenderness hidden beneath his cold exterior.
What A-Mang fed her wasn’t human flesh at all—it was Heng beast meat!
Nan Xun wanted to laugh, but she held it in.
She knew it—there was no way A-Mang would truly force her like that.
When the food burial ended, the tribespeople bowed deeply toward the head enshrined atop the stone pile, then buried the warrior’s bones together with his head in the earth.
After that, everything returned to normal. The tribespeople began processing the hunted food and preparing dinner, as if the bloody scene earlier had all been Nan Xun’s own hallucination.
That night, Nan Xun didn’t eat much roasted meat. The earlier vomiting had upset her stomach badly.
At night, A-Mang held her in his arms, his rough palm pressing against her stomach, gently rubbing.
“A Xi, did the food burial scare you?” A-Mang asked, a hint of guilt in his voice.
Nan Xun covered his large hand with hers, signaling him to stop rubbing, then said in an exceptionally gentle tone, “A-Mang, I really was frightened. So for the next month, you’re not allowed to kiss me.”
A-Mang, who had been expecting something understanding and tender:
“…”
