95: Chapter 95 No... Owe

After the White Tiger Clan stood up, they did not look at Zhou Yun, nor did they look at the people of Flower City. They made no unnecessary movements.

They walked toward the bodies of their kin that had been laid out on the open ground.

Then they began to dig the earth. They dug with their claws.

Claw by claw, they dug, breaking through the dry, hard soil of the wilderness, creating one shallow pit after another.

Some of the White Tiger Clan had bandages wrapped around their front paws, and fresh blood was seeping through, but they did not stop.

The warriors of Flower City saw this and wanted to step forward to help.

Lei Lie stopped them. He did not say why, just shook his head.

The warriors stood where they were, watching the White Tiger Clan drag the bodies of their companions into the pits one by one, cover them with earth, and touch their foreheads to the soil of the grave mounds.

As one finished, the next would follow.

Nineteen White Tiger Clan members, over eighty graves. It took a long time.

...

After the last grave was filled, the Little White Tiger stood in front of the row of graves, head bowed, motionless.

The moonlight shone on it, and the newly healed scars left deep pink marks across its white fur.

Its neck was bare; the red bell was gone, the red string was broken, there was nothing left.

It stood there for a long time.

Then it turned around and walked toward the depths of the wilderness.

It did not look back; it did not look at anyone.

The remaining eighteen White Tiger Clan members followed behind it, one after another, walking silently.

Zhou Yun was stunned for a moment, then chased after them.

"Wait."

The Little White Tiger did not stop.

Zhou Yun quickened his pace, moved around to its front, and blocked its path.

The Little White Tiger raised its head and glanced at him, its gaze so calm that it did not seem like a creature that had just fought a deadly battle.

"Go to Flower City," Zhou Yun said. He heard his own voice; it was hoarser than he had expected.

"There is shelter in the city, and food. Your wounds have just healed; it is not suitable for you to be out in the wilderness..."

He could not continue. Because he saw the Little White Tiger's eyes.

In those eyes, there was no resentment, no grievance, not even fatigue. It was just looking at him calmly, as if looking at a stranger.

The Little White Tiger walked around him and continued forward.

Zhou Yun stood where he was, opening his mouth.

"You... do not owe me anything."

When he said this, his voice cracked.

"That rain... I wanted to call it down myself. You do not need to repay it. And certainly not in this way—"

The Little White Tiger stopped. It did not turn around. It just stopped there, back to Zhou Yun, its ears twitching slightly.

It was silent for a few breaths. Then it continued walking.

The eighteen White Tiger Clan members passed by Zhou Yun.

Some glanced at him, some did not; some walked faster, some slower.

The one walking at the very end was a White Tiger Clan member, walking the slowest, and it paused when it passed in front of Zhou Yun.

It opened its mouth, and a painfully strained syllable squeezed out from its throat:

"Not... owing."

Then it, too, walked away.

Zhou Yun stood where he was, watching those nineteen white figures gradually walk into the distance.

They cast long shadows under the moonlight, the shadows dragging across the ground filled with grave mounds, slowly sliding toward the edge of the wilderness.

He did not chase after them. He just stood there, motionless.

The wind blew in from the wilderness, messing up his hair, and drying the water stains on his face that he didn't know when he had acquired. He stood there for a long time.

Long enough for Lei Lie behind him to walk over, stand beside him, and remain silent for a good while before speaking.

"City Lord."

Zhou Yun did not move.

"You did nothing wrong."

Zhou Yun still did not move.

Lei Lie was not good at saying such things. He was a man who led troops, accustomed to using orders and obedience to solve problems, not accustomed to comforting others.

But at this moment, he felt that if he did not say it, perhaps no one would.

"They chose this themselves." Lei Lie's voice was very low, as if afraid of disturbing something. "I have led troops, and I have seen many people make many choices. No one can choose for others, and no one should be responsible for the choices of others."

He paused.

"City Lord gave them a rain, and they blocked a Desolate Tide for Flower City. This account is already settled in their hearts. If you insist on feeling that you owe them, that would actually be belittling them."

The wind passed between the two.

A long time passed.

Zhou Yun's shoulders moved. A very small movement, as if taking a deep breath.

"...Let's go."

His voice was still hoarse, but steadier.

"Return to Flower City."

He turned around and took the first step toward Flower City.

He walked two steps, then paused.

"The graves..."

"I have already had people guard them," Lei Lie said. "When dawn breaks, Elder Tie will come to erect the monuments."

Zhou Yun nodded, not speaking again.

The party walked toward Flower City. Torches swayed in the night wind, stretching into a long band of light.

Zhou Yun walked at the very front. He did not look back. But his steps were much slower than when he had come.

...

Zhou Yun could not sleep. Lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind was as chaotic as a pot of porridge.

The back of the Little White Tiger. The image of those nineteen white figures walking into the wilderness. The row of new graves under the moonlight. And those two words that the tiger had said when it turned back— "Not owing."

He turned over. He decided not to think about it.

But when he closed his eyes, the image changed again. It turned into the city walls of Flower City, into the newly built watchtower in the West City, into the scene of fifty thousand people shouting in unison on the training ground, "Fight finished, collect the meat."

It turned into the bowl of cold porridge brought by Nuan Nuan, into the cursing voice of Tie Shan on the scaffolding, into the sight of Minister Wang Fugui crying with snot and tears. It turned into Wan'er's hands twisting her sleeves without speaking. It turned into the side profile of Strategist Zhu Ge sitting quietly in his wheelchair. It turned into the sentence Lei Lie said on the wilderness, "You did nothing wrong."

Zhou Yun turned over again and covered his head with the quilt.

Stop thinking! Tomorrow, he would go home!

...

Home.

As soon as he thought of these two words, the things in his mind suddenly quieted down.

The White Tiger Clan, Flower City, city walls, Cultivation Technique, beast tides—all retreated to the back, leaving only one image: the fruit shop.

That small fruit shop, with a few boxes of oranges always placed at the entrance.

The characters on the sign were written by his old man himself, crooked and twisted; the first character, "Fresh," was missing a stroke, and it hadn't been changed for three years. The electronic scale at the door was a bit faulty, so during holidays, his old man would stuff a couple extra fruits for the customers as compensation.

The freezer had been buzzing for over half a year, and his old man would say, "It still works, why replace it?"

The small room behind the shop. A bed, a cabinet, an old electric fan.

When it was too hot to sleep in the summer, his old man would cut half a watermelon and bring it in, and the two of them would lean against the headboard, digging it out with spoons to eat, watching short videos on their phones while they ate, neither of them speaking.

His old man snored. He had been snoring for over a decade.

Separated by a wall, the snoring still drilled in; he used to find it noisy, but now, closing his eyes—quiet. Too quiet.