Let's Do It

Lu Heng stood still, looking at the group of wild beasts in front of him.

Wolves, deer, wild boars, and other familiar creatures huddled together, shifting restlessly. Their hooves scraped against the dry earth, making a soft, rustling sound. A few cubs tried to burrow under their mothers' bellies, only to be pushed out again.

His first reaction wasn't to accept the money, but to calculate the bill.

How can you put carnivores and herbivores together? You can keep them occupied for a day or two, but if they get too hungry, deer will become meat. Wolf cubs will grow up and want to bleed, and wild boars in heat will even run into themselves. This forest is only so big, and the enclosure is only so small; it's incredibly troublesome.

They can't keep them.

The thought arose coldly, yet also very realistically.

But then he thought again and turned his gaze back to the group of beasts.

They are saved.

It's not because he's soft-hearted. He's already exhausted that trait. It's because it works.

They can serve as a defensive line—not against insects. When insects come, these creatures run faster than anyone else, so you can't rely on them. They're for protecting against people.

He didn't want to deal with people. Not a single one. But sooner or later, someone would sneak into this forest, and with these guys, he'd know.

When that time comes, the watchtower won't be the first to know.

It's them.

These wild beasts roam the woods, ears pressed to the ground, noses facing the wind. They hear and smell any foot that steps into the woods first. Humans don't come in swarms like insects; they come alone, with legs, breathing—and there's no escaping these creatures.

A ready-made scout. No need to feed them, no need to worry about them much, they will guard this land on their own.

This favor is worth doing.

Lu Heng lowered his head and looked at his feet.

The Blood Taisui lay on the ground, a dark red mass, slowly undulating. It remained silent and still, simply waiting there.

He crouched down, channeling his spiritual energy downwards to reach up.

There was no sound, no image, only a dull "meaning" coming from the other side, as if speaking through a thick layer of flesh.

Bronze Tier, several kilometers.

When asked for specific figures, the answer became vague. It wasn't certain itself; it depended on the extent of recovery and how much underground material could be absorbed.

Several kilometers.

Lu Heng mentally reviewed the distance. It wasn't far enough, but it was sufficient. This forest wasn't very large to begin with; if someone were to sneak in, a few kilometers would be enough for him to know in advance.

He looked up and saw that the wild beasts were still waiting for his answer.

The Wolf King raised his head, the fresh wound a hard black line in the night. The pack behind him remained motionless, the old, the young, and those dragging their wounds, all huddled in the outermost circle. No one cried out, no one moved, they just waited.

I've been waiting for a long time.

"Done," Lu Heng said.

He didn't raise his voice, but when those two words fell, the herd visibly relaxed—their hooves shifted, their ears lowered, and several deer eased the tension in their necks.

He took two steps forward and looked into the Wolf King's eyes.

"You--"

Lu Heng paused for a moment.

"Stay around here for now. Be patient for a while, tomorrow will be fine."

The Wolf King raised its head and glanced at him, but neither howled nor moved. The herd behind it slowly dispersed, lying down along the edge of the outer wasteland, the old protecting the young, and several deer tucking the wounded side inward.

Lu Heng didn't look at them again and turned back into the house.

Upon entering the Planting Room, his eyes immediately fell upon Star Lotus.

The Star Lotus were still blooming, but the blossoms had already been harvested. The Lotus Seed hung on them, green and hard, not quite ripe yet. He reached out and picked one, pressing his fingertip against it; it was as hard as a rock. Not ripe.

But he couldn't wait any longer.

With a twist of his hand, he plucked the Lotus Seed.

The dark red mass next to it immediately moved.

The Blood Taisui pressed itself against the ground, its surface suddenly undulating, turning entirely towards the object in his hand. It stared intently at the Star Lotus, a raw, unadulterated desire surging from it—it had never seen this thing before, but it knew it was something valuable. That yearning was impossible to suppress, rising straight upwards.

Before Lu Heng could even move his hand, Star Lotus herself trembled.

It was a very light touch. Immediately afterwards, the wave pressed down, heavy and forceful, as if something had directly pushed my head underwater.

The Blood Taisui instantly shrank into a ball, pressed tightly against the ground, and even its undulations stopped.

Lu Heng looked at it, with only one thought in his mind:

Thankfully, it was linked.

With this mess, it'll be really difficult to deal with if it's not bound to a specific account.

He took the Lotus Seed upstairs and went into the Astrology Room.

The stone platform was cold. He sat cross-legged on it and closed his eyes.

His mental energy sank, and the surrounding energy gathered in the center. This time, he didn't absorb it all into his body, but instead separated a wisp and pressed it against the dark red mass at his feet, pinning it to the spot.

With his other hand, he handed over the Lotus Seed.

The Blood Taisui moved close to the ground, and the moment it touched the Lotus Seed, its entire body tensed up.

Then I started inhaling.

At first, it was very slow, as if it dared not take a bite. The outer shell of the Lotus Seed is hard, so it can only stick to it little by little. A very thin membrane seeps out from the dark red surface, completely covering the green part.

Then, it moved.

Lu Heng could feel it—not see it, but rather felt a dull sensation emanating from his mental energy: something was being drawn away from him, bit by bit, flowing back along that membrane.

The Lotus Seed shriveled at a visible rate. The green skin turned grayish, then white, and finally became a dry shell that crumbled into powder at the slightest touch.

The color of the Blood Taisui has changed.

It deepened from dark red to black, with a hint of dark gold showing through the black. Its spread-out area did not increase, but instead shrank, while its thickness increased, with raised edges, like a piece of blood congealing.

The fishy smell in the room intensified for a moment, then subsided.

A message came from the other side, much clearer than before:

Bronze Tier.

Lu Heng opened his eyes and stared at it for a few seconds.

It's done. A single, unripe Lotus Seed has taken on such a huge responsibility.

The second message followed immediately.

It's not about numbers, it's about the imagery: countless thin, invisible threads emerge from beneath it, burrowing into the soil, into the cracks in the rocks, intertwining together, layer upon layer. Those threads are resilient, unbreakable; they can weave, they can fold, they can weave themselves into something cohesive.

Mycelium. Can be woven, covered, or used as a barrier.

Lu Heng slowly went through the three words.

Protection.

It's not like the hard-shell-like shield of type A; it's something woven layer by layer from silk—soft, but unbreakable. When laid on the ground, it's a net; when covered, it's a lining; and when wrapped around something else, it's a different story.

The third message came very faintly:

The foundation has been strengthened.

It's much stronger than before. Before, it was ethereal, kept afloat by absorbing the energy it leaked out, and would dissipate as soon as a gap appeared. Now, the energy from the Lotus Seed seed is real; it can be grasped by itself once it's embedded in the soil, and it no longer needs to be fed by it.

Lu Heng leaned back, resting his hands on the stone platform.

Looking down at the dark red mass, it had already pressed itself back onto the ground, rising and falling slowly, its rhythm much more steady than before.