123: Chapter 123 Friends?

A young citizen squeezed out from the crowd with his head bowed, his voice trembling, "Zhou Yun, it was me... I accidentally got too close just now, and they discovered me. Then they just... they ran off in the blink of an eye. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

Tie Shan's expression darkened instantly, and he was just about to speak—

Zhou Yun raised a hand to stop him.

He glanced at the young man, offered no rebuke, and simply turned to Tie Shan and said two words: "Prepare a horse."

...

The sound of hoofbeats was scattered.

Zhou Yun rode off alone into the night, without any attendants.

The direction the citizen had pointed out was to the north-northeast of the wilderness, and he plunged straight into it, following that line.

The moon was bright, casting a layer of cold, silvery light over the wilderness.

The horizon ahead seemed endless, with withered grass and gravel receding rapidly beneath the horse's hooves.

"Giddyap!"

The sound was torn apart by the night wind and scattered across the empty wilderness.

There was no response.

Only the clip-clop of the hooves and his own heartbeat remained.

The night on the wilderness seemed to stretch time.

Every heartbeat was excessively clear; every minute and every second felt as slow as if he were marking time in place.

The scenery on both sides was almost identical—withered grass, gravel, withered grass, gravel; the moonlight dyed everything the same color.

He didn't know how long he had been riding.

A voice in his mind asked: Can you catch up?

Is the direction right?

Have they already changed their route?

Every time this thought surfaced, he simply tightened the reins and shouted again.

"Giddyap!"

The moon had shifted at some point, moving from directly overhead to the side, stretching his shadow even longer.

Then, he saw them.

Under the moonlight in the distance, a few heavy black dots appeared on the horizon.

Zhou Yun's eyes widened abruptly.

He wasn't sure if it was an illusion, but the horse beneath him seemed to sense something as well, the frequency of its hooves striking the ground suddenly increasing.

The black dots drew closer, their outlines becoming increasingly clear.

White fur shimmered with silver light under the moon.

Black stripes were etched across their backs.

Big ones, small ones, tall ones, short ones; some walked in front, some lagged behind.

The figure at the very back was the smallest, and the gait of its front left limb was different from the other three legs, slightly limping.

Little White Tiger.

Zhou Yun grinned.

There was no sound.

His lips were smiling, but his throat felt as if it were blocked by something, unable to make a sound.

He took a deep breath, then another, and finally squeezed a voice from his chest:

"Friends!"

The White Tiger Clan did not respond.

They kept walking, their pace unchanged, as if they hadn't heard.

"Friends!" Zhou Yun shouted again, this time much louder, carrying the unique, empty echo of the wilderness, "Why are you leaving again?"

The White Tiger Clan stopped.

It wasn't just one that stopped; all the white tigers halted in almost the same instant, as if some silent command had spread through the entire clan.

They turned around, and over a dozen pairs of amber eyes looked at Zhou Yun simultaneously in the moonlight.

Silence.

Only the sound of the wind.

Zhou Yun pulled the reins and dismounted.

He strode toward the White Tiger Clan.

His pace was fast, so eager he was almost running—but when he reached a distance of about ten steps away, he suddenly paused.

As if he had realized something.

He stood there and took a deep breath, slowly gathering up the eagerness on his face and replacing it with a smile that was as natural as possible.

Only then did he take another step, walking step by step to the front of the White Tiger Clan, his tone as gentle as greeting an old friend:

"Why are you leaving again? Since we've met, staying... wouldn't that be better?"

...

The White Tiger Clan did not respond.

Over a dozen pairs of amber eyes stared at Zhou Yun, cold and devoid of any emotion.

The moonlight illuminated their white fur, and the black stripes looked like cracks carved into their bodies.

Zhou Yun also looked at them.

The wind blew from the depths of the wilderness, stirring his robes and hair.

He did not speak again, just stood there, the smile still hanging on his face, but countless thoughts churning in his mind.

Why are they here?

Why do they run as soon as they are discovered?

Are they doing well?

Are the cubs okay?

Suddenly, the Little White Tiger roared at him.

"Awooo—!"

Short and sharp, it sliced through the air in the silent night like a knife.

Zhou Yun's body jolted, and he subconsciously took half a step back.

His heartbeat suddenly accelerated but calmed down quickly.

Because he realized that the Little White Tiger had not pounced, but was just standing in place, tilting its head to stare at him, with something indescribable added to its amber eyes.

"Not... afraid?"

The voice was extremely awkward, like words pieced together from crushed stones.

Zhou Yun was stunned for a moment, then smiled: "Why would I be afraid of friends?"

The Little White Tiger's ears flickered.

"Fri...ends?"

"You helped us block the attack of the desolate beasts," Zhou Yun nodded, "You are friends."

The Little White Tiger was silent for a few breaths, then shook its head.

The movement was clumsy but forceful, as if denying a word it felt unworthy of possessing.

"No... we, guard fields. No, help you."

Zhou Yun shook his head gently: "Guarding the fields is the same as helping us."

"Only, guard fields." The Little White Tiger's voice became stubborn, with long pauses between every word, "Not, friends."

Zhou Yun did not continue to dwell on this word.

He was silent for a while, then changed the subject, his tone becoming a bit lighter, speaking while gesturing with his hands:

"You've seen it, right? We are planting crops, on the same land as you. It's planted well, and the growth is quite good." He pointed in the direction of Flower City, "I can help you clear the land, help you plant."

The Little White Tiger did not speak.

In the White Tiger Clan behind it, a low whimper sounded.

It was very light, as if spilling out from the depths of the throat; it was not a threat, but something that had been suppressed for a long time finally leaking out a little.

Zhou Yun's gaze passed over the Little White Tiger and looked at those silent figures behind it.

Under the moonlight, the ribs of a few white tigers were vaguely visible.

He withdrew his gaze and looked at the Little White Tiger, his smile and tone becoming a few degrees softer than before:

"Whether we are friends or not, learning to plant crops will indeed be helpful to you. Isn't that so?"

The Little White Tiger lowered its head.

The White Tiger Clan behind it was also silent, with only the wind passing between them.

Zhou Yun did not speak again.

He just stood there, his hands hanging naturally at his sides, the moonlight stretching his shadow very long, extending all the way to the feet of the White Tiger Clan.

He didn't know how much time had passed.

The Little White Tiger suddenly turned around, faced the clan, opened its mouth, and let out a low roar.

Zhou Yun's heart sank abruptly—were they leaving?

But immediately after, a white tiger followed with a roar.

Then a second, a third.

The roars rang out one after another, from the nearest to the farthest, from the adult white tigers to the cubs.

It seemed to be some kind of ancient response belonging within the clan.

When the last roar faded, the Little White Tiger turned its head back.

It looked at Zhou Yun, its amber eyes brightening for a moment in the moonlight.

Then it slowly sat down.

The white tigers behind it sat down one after another.

Zhou Yun stood in the moonlight, the curve of his lips slowly spreading.

...