After Su Qinglan finished defending the Fat Bull Tribe, her father rubbed his chin and nodded slowly.
"If they only want the hides," Su Mingxuan said, "then it's not a problem. Our tribe is strong. We can hunt plenty. Wild boars, deer… even bison if needed. We can easily trade them for this rice."
The two elders also agreed. One of them said, "Yes, our hunters are good. We have hides and meat. If what she said is true, then this trade can really help us."
The priest was quiet for a long time. He kept staring at Su Qinglan, his deep eyes unreadable. It felt like he could see through her, but he didn't say anything.
After a moment, he nodded slightly.
"If what you said is true… and this rice can last long and fill the stomach," he said slowly, "then maybe this time our tribe will pass through the storm safely."
His calm voice echoed in the cave. Everyone felt a small spark of hope.
