Chapter 301: Wildebeests Are Horses Too (Support Please)

“Master Qin, your overseas fans have complaints.”

“Yeah, you’re done—outraged every foreigner, better run now.”

“Leave quickly.”

Qin Yun was utterly baffled, face blank with confusion.

“No way—I’ve never been racist or shown favoritism. Haven’t I always treated everyone equally? How did I offend overseas fans?”

Seeing his expression, a netizen in the comments honestly explained.

“Master Qin, overseas fans have created a website and launched a petition. Within a day, it’s gathered over a million signatures, asking that next time you randomly select viewers during your livestream, you include a few overseas fans too—don’t favor one side over the other.”

Seeing this comment, Qin Yun was deeply shocked.

“Don’t scare me—is this real?”

For his next livestream, Qin Yun hadn’t even decided the content yet, let alone detailed planning—but days ago, he’d casually mentioned that his first draw would be limited to domestic netizens, and never imagined it would cause such an uproar.

“It couldn’t be more real, Qin.”

“If there are only five spots, you have to pick two from outside China.”

“Two out of five, please.”

“Qin, we also want to join your next livestream.”

Comments instantly flooded TikTok, YouTube, and Twitch—all begging him. Qin Yun glanced and couldn’t help but smile bitterly.

He clasped his hands together in thanks.

“Alright, alright—I originally planned to test the waters domestically first, but since overseas fans are so eager, if—just if—my next livestream is a special episode, I’ll definitely consider including overseas fans. Don’t worry.”

Overseas fans across all three platforms, hearing this, became ecstatic.

Gifts flooded the screen, and within moments, the total value soared past all limits.

Seeing this, what could Qin Yun say?

Following the Malahe, Qin Yun ate a simple meal, applied some wild bee honey, and set off again.

“The Masai Mara northern triangle lies north of the Malahe, so to reach our destination, we must cross the border between Tanzania and Kenya. And the border is this river—if I cross it, I’m in Kenya.”

Qin Yun suddenly pointed at a brown wooden sign across the river and laughed: “Look—just talking about the border, and there’s the warning sign: ‘INTERNATIONAL BOUNDARY NOTE THAT ENTRY IS PROHIBITED’—meaning this is an international border, unauthorized entry forbidden.”

“How’s Master Qin going to get in? You’re not a wildebeest.”

“Obviously, Master Qin already got the paperwork done.”

“Of course—he wouldn’t just sneak across under everyone’s watchful eyes. That’d be too wild.”

Qin Yun laughed: “Naturally. Before officially starting the livestream, I already completed all procedures in both Tanzania and Kenya. This is legitimate broadcasting—not illegal.”

He walked forward several dozen meters. This area wasn’t a crossing point for the migration herd, so few wild animals were nearby.

“The Malahe’s width ranges from thirty to a hundred meters. I’ll pick a spot that’s shorter and slightly gentler, so I don’t get swept away.”

He walked for half the day before appearing behind the wildebeest herd. Around him, cold stares fixed on the herd, ready to feast at any moment.

Qin Yun glanced and suddenly had an idea. For him, crossing water normally posed no danger—he decided to make it exciting.

But he didn’t act immediately. If he was going to play, he’d prepare thoroughly.

He turned and walked away toward the grassland.

“Why’s Master Qin leaving?”

“Not crossing the river?”

“The river’s only waist-deep. Stay away from the Nile crocs, easy to cross.”

Qin Yun slipped into the dense grass beside the river. Seeing lush, juicy, tender green blades, he sliced them with his dagger, gathering clusters of soft stems and leaves.

He cut for about half an hour, filling a hollowed-out honey container to the brim.

“What’s Master Qin doing?”

“Don’t get it? Preparing to eat grass?”

Once he’d gathered enough grass, Qin Yun stepped out of the thicket, glanced back at his drone, and smiled: “Can’t guess? Don’t rush—I’m still preparing.”

He walked along the riverbank toward the marshy shallows, where tall, slender reeds swayed in the wind, their green stalks sweet and juicy. He bent down, plucking fresh reeds, trimming off the tough old roots, keeping only the softest central portions.

When he’d collected a full armful, he stopped.

“Well? Have you guessed what I’m doing?”

Unfortunately, no netizen in the livestream could guess what Qin Yun planned.

He didn’t delay further, laughing: “Wildebeests are horses too—I’m going to catch one and ride it across the river.”

Hearing this, the livestream audience fell silent.

“What the hell—wildebeests are horses? How could you say that?”

“How’s a wildebeest supposed to be tamed?”

“This is insane—can you even ride a wildebeest?”

“Holy shit!”

“Jesus, Qin’s talking nonsense again.”

Qin Yun shook his head: “I’m not joking. Wildebeest backs aren’t built for long-term weight, but for a short river crossing? No issue. As for taming it—don’t worry, that’s my business.”

He pointed to the tender grass and reeds in his arms: “Grass and young reeds are wildebeests’ essentials—their favorites. I’m going to use these to lure one over.”

After speaking, he sneaked toward the riverside.

At this moment, the river crossing continued; all wildebeests were restless, waiting their turn. Qin Yun didn’t rush toward the agitated herd, carefully scanning among them.

“Calves are out—old, weak wildebeests are out—females are out. I can only pick from a healthy adult male.”

After scanning, he settled on a male at the edge of the herd, grazing on the ground. It was massive, muscular, clearly formidable.

Its horns were hard and sharp, its coat glossy and smooth—perfect.

Qin Yun crept closer, stopping at a suitable distance. He scattered a handful of fresh grass on the ground, then stepped back a few paces, waiting quietly.

The rich scent of grass drifted on the wind. The wildebeest flared its nostrils, sniffed, looked up at Qin Yun, took a few steps toward the grass, then stopped, staring at him.

Seeing Qin Yun didn’t move, it approached the grass, reached it without incident, and lowered its head to eat.

Qin Yun smiled, then scattered another handful of grass, stepping back again.

As expected, once the wildebeest finished the first pile, it smelled the new grass nearby and trotted over eagerly.

“Don’t eat it, idiot.”

“Already falling for it?”

“Master Qin’s expression looks like a devil luring women to their doom.”

“Hahaha.”

Each time the wildebeest finished eating, Qin Yun placed another handful of grass on the ground, luring it farther from the herd. When the grass was nearly gone, he pulled out a bundle of reeds—but didn’t put them on the ground. Instead, he held them out before the wildebeest.

Under the steady stream of treats, the wildebeest’s eating grew more relaxed.

Qin Yun led it gradually away from the riverbank. Its feeding instinct made it forget why it had come here. Every time it finished, fresh food appeared at its mouth—what could be happier than this?

Several hundred meters from the Malahe, Qin Yun paused, then pulled a natural salt block he’d picked up earlier from his pocket.

“Salt isn’t just for humans—animals need it too. It’s as essential as water.”

Qin Yun whispered, placed the salt on the ground. The salty aroma instantly triggered the wildebeest’s preference—it immediately lowered its head to lick. Seeing this, Qin Yun turned, raised his hand, and pressed it against the wildebeest’s neck.

The wildebeest stiffened, instinctively trying to pull away—but Qin Yun immediately offered another bundle of tender reeds to its mouth. Like a biological priority system, as long as Qin Yun didn’t pose a clear threat, the wildebeest’s feeding instinct overrode its fear.

Qin Yun slowly shifted backward until he stood beside the wildebeest’s spine.

“Oh no—the horse’s gonna get ridden.”

“Master Qin’s a beast—he’s got a mare now.”

“Hahaha, after eating all that grass and reeds, a little ride won’t hurt.”

Qin Yun’s hand rested on the wildebeest’s back. Under the drone’s close-up lens, the texture of its spine was clear, every strand of mane visible.

“Look—wildebeest spines are narrow. Unlike horses, whose backs are flat, broad, and muscular enough to carry weight, wildebeest backs are long and arched, thin in the middle—sitting on them will be uncomfortable.”

“And despite this male’s bulk, its frame isn’t that large. But as I said earlier, a short ride won’t matter.”

Saying this, he gripped the wildebeest’s back and swung himself up.

Instantly, the wildebeest panicked, erupted in rage, reared and spun wildly. Qin Yun gripped its mane, enduring its thrashing without flinching.

“Damn, this is really uncomfortable.”

But though it couldn’t throw him off, sitting on it made his butt ache.

He never intended to truly tame it. Not only was taming impossible, but even if he could, it’d be useless. He only wanted the wildebeest to carry him across the river. As the Masai Mara drew nearer, doing nothing would be too boring.

“North, go! Let’s go!”

Qin Yun yanked hard on the wildebeest’s mane. The animal, in pain, was forced to turn and bolt toward the Malahe.

“Hahahaha, thrilling!”

Qin Yun laughed loudly.