Chapter 103

Ye Yin stared blankly at Xi Yu, as if meeting him for the first time.

“We have always known of each other’s existence,” Xi Yu said slowly. “We know each other’s goals, motives, and nature, but not who we truly are. It’s the same for him.”

“How can that be...?”

“I’ve said too much today. It’s best if you forget it all,” Xi Yu advised. “It’s not deliberate concealment. Many things, even if told now, you wouldn’t truly understand and it would only bring you trouble. You’ve done well all along—thank you for your hard work.”

Xi Yu gently stroked Ye Yin’s head. The warm touch felt like that of a mentor, or a loving father, instantly soothing her anxious heart: with such a reliable person around, the shadowy figures behind the scenes didn’t seem so terrifying after all.

“Thank you for telling me such important matters,” Ye Yin whispered. “Between you and that mysterious figure, of course I stand with you. Until there’s a clear task for me, I will continue on with my original plans.”

“Exactly,” Xi Yu nodded.

Since being expelled from the Third Base by Ye Yu, the Mu family father and son had lived uneasy days—first struggling for power and survival by the skin of their teeth, then scheming against Alliance Leader Song and his subordinates. After finally sending Song to his grave a month ago and establishing a dominant position, a plague outbreak erupted within the base.

With no other choice, they sought aid from the Capital Base, hoping the Sacred Flame Corporation would provide medicine to cure the disease.

On one hand, the Capital Base’s enduring stability owed much to the Sacred Flame Corporation.

The Sacred Flame Corporation was a titan of commerce in the nation and the entire Y Continent, much like the Umbrella Corporation in the Resident X Crisis. Originally a pharmaceutical company, it expanded into numerous high-tech industries, wielding significant influence both domestically and abroad.

When the apocalypse struck, many instinctively blamed them for the catastrophe, causing no shortage of trouble for the company—riots smashing their buildings, assassination attempts on their chairman. But the company leadership insisted: if we really had that kind of power, we would have expanded beyond the Y Continent long ago! We’re just businessmen; our scientists develop technology ultimately for profit and comfort. Why would we benefit from turning the world upside down? We’re no mad scientists from the movies.

Despite grievances, the Sacred Flame Corporation spared no effort assisting the Capital Base with various public and covert operations. Due to their outstanding performance, they were incorporated into national institutions, enjoying benefits and treatment similar to top officials, becoming one of the last renowned major enterprises.

Uncovering the secret of the Coldwater Sheep in the Fourth Base remained one of their most vexing projects. These sheep appeared identical to ordinary ones, yet never survived once removed from the Fourth Base—none had ever lived through relocation.

Fortunately, scientists were regarded with little esteem in the apocalypse, so the Capital Base managed to gather surviving researchers from other bases by trading food supplies. Working together, their combined efforts over many months led the once Nobel laureate scientist to tremblingly uncover the tip of the iceberg regarding the Coldwater Sheep’s secret.

“What? You mean the feed?” Committee Member Shen of the Capital Base exclaimed in surprise.

“Yes. The sheep themselves are fine; the key lies in their feed,” the project leader explained. “They don’t drink ordinary snowmelt water, but water infused with certain hormones. Those hormones are critical for their growth and survival. If Old Zheng hadn’t been quick to dissect the stomach of a Coldwater Sheep just returned by helicopter, we might still be going in circles.”

“Hmm...” Shen pondered. “Can you mass-produce these hormones?”

“That’s difficult. We can’t even identify their exact composition,” the leader admitted honestly. “It seems we’ll have to send someone to the Fourth Base to find out firsthand.”

Shen shook his head with a wry smile. “Back to square one. If that base was willing to disclose, we wouldn’t need to sneak around like this. Oh well, you’ve done well—take a break and keep at it.”

After the leader left, Shen’s secretary noticed his troubled expression and said, “Don’t worry, Committee Member. I heard we still have those frogs, right? They won’t starve.”

“I supported establishing multiple large bases to avoid putting all our eggs in one basket, in case the virus strikes again and wipes out an entire colony,” Shen said as he lit a cigarette, his stern face partially obscured by smoke. “But our methods to prevent bases from becoming independent and rebellious were lacking. Now we can’t control them—they control us instead. Ha.”

“They’re all fools! They don’t understand the bigger picture, only know how to oppose the Capital Base,” the secretary exclaimed indignantly. “Short-sighted and petty, hoarding their little patch of land like scared turtles. Don’t they see unity is the only way forward?”

“Forget the scared turtles; what worries me most now are those who stand out,” Shen crushed his cigarette and stood gravely. “Send someone to mobilize the security team and helicopters. I’m going to the Fourth Base myself.”

“Yes, sir!”

Ye Yin moved even faster than Committee Member Shen. While he was still contemplating how to obtain the Coldwater Sheep feed, she was already standing amid the flock at the Fourth Base, quietly observing the adorable sheep.

“Many of them have been so frightened this year, they can’t even eat the snow properly,” said the herding girl Sarin. “Hero, it’s cold outside. Come inside for some hot milk tea.”

Coldwater Sheep feared neither cold nor hunger; their only natural enemy was a pack of mutated wolves outside the base. Previously, the wolves were few and demand low, snatching only a few hundred sheep annually. But recently, they had grown more brazen, almost competing with humans for food. The Fourth Base had no one capable of intimidating them.

Upon hearing this, Ye Yin sent Pi to the wolf den to subdue the lawless pack herself. Carrying the carcass of the old wolf king, she went straight to the Fourth Base to claim her reward, becoming a hero in the eyes of its people and an honored guest among the Mai tribe, who treated her with great hospitality. She stayed in the chieftain’s house, tended by his eldest daughter, Sarin.

Only then did she learn that not everyone qualified to raise Coldwater Sheep. Only members of the Mai tribe were allocated flocks and were the only ones who knew the secret herding methods—tightly guarded knowledge. Fortunately, Ye Yin was different—an honored tribeswoman sanctioned by the Sacred Maiden—so Sarin was open with her, answering all questions.

“Now that the wolves are gone, there shouldn’t be any more trouble, right?” Ye Yin asked as she sipped the warm milk tea inside the tent.

“Of course not,” Sarin replied frankly. “But actually, these sheep won’t last much longer.”

“Why not?”

“They eat snow because the Sacred Maiden performs a monthly ritual. But the materials for those rituals are almost gone and likely won’t be found again.”

“What do you plan to do then?”

“No idea,” Sarin said cheerfully. “The Sacred Maiden will have a solution.”

Ye Yin had met the Sacred Maiden once and knew she was a low-level cultivator, so she doubted Sarin’s confidence. The Mai tribe’s Sacred Maiden was plain-looking, with slender eyes, rosy cheeks, a sturdy frame, dressed in colorful robes and adorned with jewelry. She treated Ye Yin kindly—a simple soul, though often flattered and thus somewhat imposing.

“May I see your Sacred Maiden again?” Ye Yin asked. “There’s something important I want to discuss.”

“Of course, I’ll inform her right away.”

“Thank you.”

The Sacred Maiden, aside from performing the monthly ritual and receiving daily worship from her people, had little else to do. Upon hearing Ye Yin’s arrival, she promptly agreed to meet.

“Sacred Maiden, I heard Coldwater Sheep won’t be sustainable much longer. What are your plans?”

“I’m waiting for the instructions from the Celestial Deity,” the Sacred Maiden replied. “The Deity will show us the way to overcome these difficulties.”

“Well,” Ye Yin’s expression turned serious, “can I ask which materials you’re lacking? Perhaps I can help.”

Ye Yin expected common cultivation supplies—pure energy, refined metals—but the Sacred Maiden’s list stunned her:

“Feathers from the wings of the Celestial Eagle, relics from venerable monks, moss found atop snow-capped mountains, ashes from incense burners used for over a hundred years in temples... also the first lost tooth of a child, scales from fish in the bottom of Moonlight Lake...”

“Ahem, those are indeed rare materials,” Ye Yin said awkwardly, realizing demands varied greatly between sects.

“You’re a cultivator too, aren’t you, Hero?” the Sacred Maiden said. “I have a keen eye for these things.”

Ye Yin’s expression flickered as she nodded. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“The Celestial Deity once told me a hero would come to save our tribe and drive away the wolves,” the Sacred Maiden smiled. “So I have no worries. Look, haven’t you already appeared? I believe in you, and in the Deity.”

That made things easier.

“Pardon my frankness, but since the Coldwater Sheep won’t last long, rather than waiting for disaster, it’s better to act early and find the best path for everyone.”

“What do you mean, Hero?”

Ye Yin sat upright, voice resolute: “I mean, before famine sparks war, please lead your people to relocate to a more suitable base. I know of a place without cold waves, with fertile soil and capable management.”

The Sacred Maiden’s mouth dropped open.

“You want me to move the tribe to new pastures?”