88: Chapter 88 They just want to live

It roared more and more fiercely, but its voice became increasingly hoarse. Due to excessive blood loss, its four legs were already trembling.

But it wouldn't allow it.

It wouldn't let anyone get close.

Tie Shan rushed in front of Zhou Yun in a few strides, blocking him.

"City Lord, be careful!"

He turned back and glared at the Little White Tiger, his beard bristling with anger: "My City Lord is doing this for your own good! You ungrateful thing, treating kindness with malice!"

The Little White Tiger had no reaction to his angry rebuke.

It retreated half a step, curled itself up tighter, and still guarded the remains of the crops behind it, remaining fully on guard.

Zhou Yun reached out and pressed on Tie Shan's shoulder, signaling him to step aside.

He did not walk any further forward.

He just stood in place, looking at the Little White Tiger, looking at the withered field behind it, and looking at the neat, charred-brown crop remains between the ridges.

Then he crouched down.

Wan'er stood not far behind him, her gaze sweeping over the cracked land, and she shook her head gently.

"City Lord, on such a wasteland, with such barren land... how could crops possibly grow?"

Lei Lie also chimed in: "Desolate Beasts are just Desolate Beasts. Their intelligence is limited; they simply don't understand the principles behind this."

Zhou Yun crouched on the ground, his fingers brushing aside a cluster of withered stalks to examine the roots.

He stood up again, walked a few steps, and looked at the distance between adjacent plants.

He crouched down again, pinched a handful of soil, and sniffed it under his nose.

Then he said: "No. They understand."

Lei Lie was stunned.

Zhou Yun pointed at the remains under his feet: "This crop is called Wintergreen Wheat. It is cold-resistant and drought-tolerant, one of the few crops that can survive in winter. They knew this, so they specifically planted only this one."

His finger pointed from one remnant to the next: "The spacing between the seedlings is about one and a half feet. This is the most suitable planting density for Wintergreen Wheat; too dense and they will compete for nutrients, too sparse and they will waste the soil's potential. They measured it."

He turned around, looking in the direction of the distant Ganlan Mountain: "They even knew that this land was too dry, and that relying solely on the moisture in the soil couldn't sustain anything. So they went to Ganlan Mountain to fetch water, crossing mountains and ridges, traveling for several hours back and forth, just to pour a few buckets of water on this field."

"When they confronted us, it wasn't to fight for territory."

Zhou Yun withdrew his gaze, his voice calm.

"They just wanted to survive."

When these words fell, the surroundings went quiet.

But it wasn't just the people who went quiet.

The White Tiger Clan also went quiet.

The whimpering stopped.

Twenty or so Tiger-men raised their heads, their pairs of golden vertical pupils all looking toward Zhou Yun.

They couldn't fully understand human speech, but Zhou Yun's tone, his actions of crouching in the field to observe carefully, and the direction his finger pointed when indicating the crop remains—they understood.

This human was talking about their crops.

Talking about the efforts they had made.

The ferocious look on the Little White Tiger's face faded away bit by bit.

In its place was a naked sorrow.

It lowered its head, looked at the withered seedling by its feet that even its own blood couldn't save, and shrank its body.

The red bell hung on its chest, stained with mud and blood, its tinkling sound gone.

Several older Tiger-men let out low whimpers.

They had tried their best.

Crossing mountains to fetch water, learning to farm, measuring the spacing, choosing the right variety.

They had done everything they could at every step.

But the land was too dry.

Heaven would not rain.

They had lost to the heavens.

Zhou Yun's gaze swept over their weak bodies, and then he took out the Red Flame Golden-Maned Pig meat and placed it on the ground.

"Eat something first."

The Tiger-men of the White Tiger Clan saw the meat, and their eyes instantly lit up!

Meat had always had an unparalleled attraction for them!

Especially at this moment!

But this look only lasted for an instant, and was immediately replaced by determination.

Several cubs instinctively leaned forward, their noses twitching as they smelled the aroma of the Red Flame Golden-Maned Pig meat.

But the leading mother tiger let out a low growl.

The cubs immediately shrank back.

The mother tiger stood up and waved her paw at Zhou Yun.

The gesture was clear—take it away, we don't want it.

Then she turned her head and continued to look at the withered field.

The other Tiger-men had the same reaction.

Not a single one touched the Red Flame Golden-Maned Pig meat on the ground.

They just crouched there, staring at the crops they had planted with their own hands and watched die with their own eyes, motionless.

Tie Shan and Lei Lie exchanged a look, and both saw surprise in each other's eyes.

Anyone with eyes could see they were extremely hungry.

In such a state, they could actually refuse the temptation of meat??

They understood.

These Tiger-men, it wasn't that they didn't want it.

It was that they refused to take it.

They wanted to survive by relying on their own fields, their own crops, and their own strength.

They did not want to accept charity.

At this moment, they understood why Zhou Yun had not let them attack these Tiger-men at the time.

And why he had come here to check the situation.

These Tiger-men seemed to be a bit different.

Lei Lie's lips moved, wanting to say something, but in the end, he just let out a muffled snort and turned his head to the side.

Zhou Yun looked at the White Tiger Clan and did not try to persuade them further.

He crouched down again, inserted his fingers into the cracked soil, and probed inch by inch.

The soil was dry.

It wasn't just dry on the surface.

It was completely dried through from top to bottom.

He pulled out his fingers, looking at the grey-white soil powder clinging to his fingertips.

This land hadn't been lacking water for just a day or two.

It had been months, or even longer.

The underground moisture had been drained, and the soil had hardened into a giant dry sponge.

Pouring water on top caused it to flow away along the cracks, being absorbed by the earth itself, never reaching the crop's root system.

Of the water the White Tiger Clan transported from Ganlan Mountain, nine out of ten buckets fed the soil, and only one bucket touched the seedlings.

No wonder they couldn't grow.

Zhou Yun stood up and patted the dirt off his knees.

"What these seedlings need is not mountain spring water."

Everyone looked at him.

The White Tiger Clan also looked at him.

"The water transported from the mountain, when poured onto the ground, is mostly absorbed directly by the dried-out soil layer.

Very little actually seeps down to the root system.

Even if they moved the entire stream from Ganlan Mountain here, it wouldn't be enough to fill the void of this land."

He looked at the grey-white earth.

"What they need is a rain."

"A hearty, pouring rain."

The Tiger-men of the White Tiger Clan couldn't understand his words, but they understood the word "Heaven"—when Zhou Yun spoke, his gaze looked upward.

Several Tiger-men followed his gaze and looked up at the sky.

But the sky remained grey and hazy, without a single cloud.

Their expressions became even more sorrowful and indignant.

An old Tiger-man raised its front paw and waved it toward the sky, letting out an angry roar.

There was no killing intent in that roar, only questioning—questioning the Heavens.

We have done everything.

Why won't you rain?

How could they not know they needed rain?

But on this wasteland, for so many years, not a single drop of rain had ever fallen.

The Little White Tiger crouched beside that withered seedling, head lowered, blood still slowly seeping from its wrist.

It was no longer looking at Zhou Yun, nor at the sky.

It just stared at the small patch of soil under its feet that had been soaked by its blood and then quickly dried out, motionless.

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

The surroundings were very quiet.

The humans and the Tiger-men were silent together.