87: Chapter 87 Jianmu Tongtian Code

Old Dao raised his hand and pressed down, signaling them to keep their voices low.

The few people quickly restrained their expressions. Looking left and right to make sure no one was paying attention, one of them leaned into Old Dao's ear and lowered his voice:

"Boss, we have the Cultivation Technique now. Why don't we find an opportunity to make a move tonight? Kill that Zhou Yun, and then run away under the cover of night?"

Old Dao swept a glance at him.

That glance was very cold.

"What's the rush?"

His voice was very low, but his tone was like a blade: "How much do we know about this city? Have we figured out the city defense deployment? What is the combat power of that Silver Rank Lei Lie? What about the background of the strategist in the wheelchair?"

He threw out a series of questions, and the person who made the suggestion immediately shut his mouth.

"Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated in a hundred battles," Old Dao said, "Before we have a foolproof plan, no one is allowed to act rashly."

"The boss is right!" The few people nodded quickly.

"Let's learn more for a few more days!"

"The boss is wise!"

...

On the other side, because Lei Lie began to spread the Cultivation Technique, Zhou Yun also received a System notification.

[Ding! You successfully gifted Green Wood Art * 1, triggering a 10,000x critical hit reward, obtaining Green Wood Art * 10,000!]

[Ding! You successfully gifted Green Wood Art * 1, triggering a 100x critical hit reward, obtaining Green Wood Art * 100!]

[Ding! You successfully gifted Green Wood Art * 1, triggering a 1,000x critical hit reward, obtaining Green Wood Art * 1,000!]

...

Looking at the constantly increasing Green Wood Art in the System space, Zhou Yun was quite speechless.

For a Cultivation Technique, one copy is enough.

You give me so many, I have no use for them!

Just then...

[Ding! You successfully gifted Green Wood Art (Bronze) * 1, triggering a 100,000,000x critical hit reward, obtaining the quality evolution reward: Green Spirit Creation Art (Silver) * 1!]

[Ding! You successfully gifted Green Wood Art (Bronze) * 1, triggering a 1,000,000,000x critical hit reward, obtaining the quality evolution reward: Jianmu Heaven-Connecting Canon (Gold) * 1!]

...

That same morning, Tie Shan came to find Zhou Yun with a smile.

"City Lord, good news! Over at Ganlan Mountain, the White Tiger Clan did not come to fetch water today."

He rubbed his hands, his tone carrying a hint of relief: "It seems that after sharing the water source for the past two days, they have also figured out the pattern and know that we won't fight them for it. Maybe they will stagger their times in the future, so both sides can avoid being nervous."

After listening, Zhou Yun did not show the relaxed expression Tie Shan expected.

He pondered for a moment, then said: "That's not right."

Tie Shan was stunned: "What's not right?"

"They were in such a hurry to fetch water the past two days, which shows that water is very important to them," Zhou Yun said. "With such a rigid demand, they wouldn't suddenly not need it."

He stood up.

"They didn't come today, not because they don't need water—something must have happened that prevented them from coming to get it."

Tie Shan opened his mouth, somewhat unconvinced: "City Lord, those are wild beasts... Whether something happens to them or not, it has nothing to do with us, right?"

Zhou Yun did not respond to this.

He was already walking out.

"Lead the way. To Ganlan Mountain."

...

The group set off from Ganlan Mountain, following the tracks left by the White Tiger Clan toward the northwest.

Wild beasts do not deliberately hide their traces like humans.

Claw prints on the grass, white fur rubbed off on bushes, occasional scratch marks—all clearly pointed in the same direction.

They walked for more than an hour.

The landscape began to change.

The grass became shorter and yellower, until it finally disappeared.

The ground beneath their feet changed from moist brown to cracked gray-white, with cracks crisscrossing like the face of an old man.

The air also changed, dry and scorching, and the wind carried the astringent taste of sand and dust.

Tie Shan's pace slowed down. He looked around, his expression changing from unconvinced to confused.

"How did it get like this here? The surrounding land is fine, just this area..."

Zhou Yun did not answer.

His gaze fell on a low-lying area not far ahead.

There were crops there.

Or rather, what used to be crops.

Short plants poked out of the cracked soil, their leaves curled and withered, stems broken, the entire field presenting a desperate scorched brown color.

Some still maintained a growing posture, reaching out withered branches toward the sky, as if trying to reach for something at the last moment.

But they were all dead.

Zhou Yun squatted down and picked up a withered leaf. The leaf shattered at a touch, turning into dry powder between his fingers.

Then he heard crying.

Not human crying.

It was a low, intermittent whimpering, squeezed out from the depths of the throat, hoarse and suppressed, mixed with muffled sounds from the nasal cavity.

Many sound sources overlapped, sounding from afar like wind passing through a dry reed bed.

He stood up, crossed the dead field, and saw the camp of the White Tiger Clan.

Twenty or so Tiger-men were crouching by the field, some lying on the ground, front paws clawing at the cracked soil, emitting that low whimper.

Some buried their heads in the withered crops, their shoulders shaking.

A few cubs were aimlessly running around the adults, using their paws to poke at the withered yellow leaves, pulling back after poking a couple of times, tilting their heads, not understanding why the adults were all sad.

They were crying for these crops.

They... grew crops???

Tie Shan and the few Professionals following behind Zhou Yun also saw this scene. Everyone was stunned in place.

Wild beasts growing crops.

The impact of this fact itself was greater than any battle.

Zhou Yun suddenly understood—why the White Tiger Clan had fought so desperately to protect the water source of Ganlan Mountain a few days ago.

It wasn't for drinking.

The water was for watering the fields.

They had opened a field on this land that was so barren that not a blade of grass grew.

They learned human methods of sowing, irrigating, and waiting for the harvest.

They needed water, fetched it from Ganlan Mountain, traveled over mountains and ridges to transport it back, and poured it into this field.

But they failed.

Not enough water.

The road was too far.

The soil was too dry.

The crops all died.

The crying continued.

Zhou Yun's gaze moved from the field to the edge of the camp, and then his footsteps stopped.

It was that Little White Tiger.

It was not crouching and crying with its clansmen.

It was crouching alone in the easternmost corner of the field, next to a withered crop.

The red bell hung on its chest, stained with mud.

It was clutching a sharp stone shard in its right paw.

The blade of the stone shard was pressed against the inside of its left wrist.

It was cutting its own wrist.

Bright red blood surged from the wound, dripping onto the soil beneath its feet along its paw.

It used its other paw to press the blood into the soil, pressing it again and again, as if feeding water to the land.

The blood soaked into the cracked mud, leaving a small patch of dark red wet marks.

But that bit of blood couldn't soak very deep.

The soil was too dry.

The blood seeped down an inch before being sucked dry, the wet marks disappeared in an instant, and the soil turned back to gray-white.

The Little White Tiger made another cut.

More blood surged out.

Its face was already pale, its furry ears drooped, and its body was trembling slightly.

But it didn't stop. It lowered its head, cutting one slash after another, squeezing out one drop after another, feeding its own blood to the crop at its feet that was already dead.

It still didn't understand that the crop couldn't be saved.

Perhaps it understood.

It just couldn't think of any other way.

Zhou Yun stepped forward.

"Stop cutting."

His voice was not loud, but it clearly carried through the whimpering.

The Little White Tiger shuddered.

It suddenly raised its head and saw Zhou Yun walking toward it.

Those round tiger eyes were immediately filled with vigilance.

It dropped the stone shard, arched its body, and let out a sharp hiss at Zhou Yun.

Not the tentative baring of teeth from before.

It was a real threat.

It was a desperate stance.

It blocked itself in front of that withered crop, the fur all over its body bristling, and blood was still continuously dripping from its left wrist onto the soil.