The canal's success, like a timely rain, nourished the Leopard Tribe and utterly transformed Gu Liang's circumstances. Crystal-clear river water flowed ceaselessly into the natural reservoir formed in the tribe's lowlands, making water collection, laundry, and drinking vastly more convenient for the beastmen. Gu Liang's name began to be truly remembered by the tribe. Some young female beastmen even looked at him with curiosity and admiration.
Chief Mo Zong publicly commended Gu Liang and issued a formal decree: "Henceforth, all tribal resource accounting and engineering planning shall be jointly overseen by Greyclaw and Gu Liang. Gu Liang may participate in elders' council meetings to offer computational advice."
This decree effectively acknowledged Gu Liang's status as an "advisor" within the tribal leadership. He was granted a separate, more spacious dwelling.
A Lie's rage and frustration reached a boiling point. Watching the fear gradually fade from Gu Liang's eyes and his back begin to straighten, he felt like his prized prey was slipping free from the trap, even showing contempt toward the hunter who fed it. This sense of loss of control sent him into a fury.What was even more unbearable was that every recognition Gu Liang received felt like a mockery of his failure—his inability to completely subdue that stubborn mind through violence.
But he had grown wiser. Openly defying the leader's will through violence was unwise. He needed more covert means—ones that could strike at Gu Liang's psyche and reclaim control. His goal wasn't to destroy him, but to transform him back into a possession that clung to him, feared him, and ultimately surrendered completely.
Gu Liang savored this hard-won respect, yet dared not relax his guard for a moment. He knew all too well A Lie's vindictive nature and that suffocating possessiveness.
That day, the elders' council discussed winter fuel supplies. Gu Liang hesitated briefly before proposing mining "black stone" (coal). As expected, the elders dismissed the idea as "absurd."
After the meeting, Gu Liang walked silently out of the tent, feeling somewhat downcast.
"Hmph. You think you can ignite stone with friction fire?" A Lie's voice came from behind him, cold and piercing like a bone-chilling stare. "You believe digging a muddy ditch grants you insight into matters known only to the Beast God? A slave's skull truly holds nothing but rotten grass and filthy mud."
Gu Liang's footsteps halted. He didn't turn around, but his back instantly tensed.
A Lie slowly paced toward him, his towering figure looming overhead. Golden pupils fixed on him like a predator locking onto prey. "So eager to shake off your master? Think a few scraps from the table make your claws sharp enough to hunt on your own?"
He reached out, his fingertips nearly touching the conspicuous brand beneath Gu Liang's collarbone. "Don't forget, little slave. Your skin, your flesh, every breath you take—all are my gifts. I can let you lick the scraps I toss, or I can make you gnaw on dirt again."
His fingers never quite touched, but the invisible pressure nearly suffocated Gu Liang.
"Lick up these few rare scraps of meat properly." A Lie leaned closer, his breath hot and bloody against Gu Liang's ear. "Before long, you'll understand whose fangs truly decide your life and death. You'll crawl back to my feet like a crippled cub cast out from the pack, begging for my protection."
With a cold laugh, he strode away.
Gu Liang stood rooted to the spot, sunlight beating down on him, yet he felt bone-chilling cold. A Lie's threat was no longer merely physical harm; it had struck precisely at the fragile dignity he had just begun to build. He knew A Lie was waiting for an opportunity to utterly shatter his will. This unease clung to him like sticky cobwebs, making him hypersensitive to the slightest disturbance.
Sure enough, within two days, unsettling signs began appearing in the tribe. First, two elderly beastmen responsible for the pond's daily maintenance murmured to each other while clearing fallen leaves from the edge. They stared at the crystal-clear water and whispered, "The water looks pure enough, but whenever I drink it, I feel something......bitter? Could it be that slave dug the channel too hastily, flushing down some filth from upstream?" At first, these words circulated only among the elders, causing little stir.
But soon, the murmurs grew louder and took on a different tone. Young warriors who had long harbored resentment toward the "slave-led project" would deliberately speak loudly while fetching water: "This water might not smell foul, but who knows what's flowing in through that new channel! During the digging, plenty of riverbank dirt and rotten leaves got stirred up in there!" They didn't accuse Gu Liang directly, but their meaningful glances and deliberately raised voices ensured every passerby heard them loud and clear.
Gu Liang sensed this undercurrent. He worked harder to clean the ponds, repeatedly inspected the water intakes and canal banks, and even took a large gulp of water himself in front of several beastmen. But rumors spread like vines—once they began to climb, they couldn't be easily severed by facts alone.
Once, when Grayclaw overheard such talk, he slammed his record tablet against the young warrior's head in fury: "You good-for-nothing! Clean water at your disposal, yet you still can't keep your mouth shut! Keep spouting nonsense, and next time you get meat, it'll be bone scraps!"
The rebuke silenced the voices, but it couldn't suppress the seeds of doubt. An inexplicable resistance to the "new thing" and a vague fear quietly took root, even as the canal brought undeniable convenience. Gu Liang's heart sank. He felt like he was standing on a slowly cracking sheet of ice, hearing the faint crackling beneath his feet, yet unable to predict when the fissure would split completely—or where he could flee.
Finally, after four or five days of fermenting rumors, the taut string snapped.
First, children and elders in several households near the pond fell ill with vomiting and diarrhea on the same night. Then, like wildfire, the symptoms spread through the tribe. More and more people collapsed, their agonized moans and panicked cries replacing the usual sounds of daily life.
"It's the water! It must be the water!" a female beast-person screamed, her voice shrill and distorted as she clutched her vomiting cub. Her trembling finger pointed toward the pond. "It started after we drank from that new channel! We get all our water from there!"
Her words ignited the smoldering embers like sparks thrown into boiling oil. Days of accumulated suspicion, fear, and helplessness in the face of illness found a concrete, clear, and seemingly "foreseeable" culprit.
"Yes! It's the water from that channel!"34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3j6CYgeHBC
"That slave brought in filthy water!"34Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRDL1LhtjDt
"Kill him! He poisoned the tribe!"
The enraged beastmen surged like a burst dam, eyes bloodshot, rushing toward Gu Liang's dwelling.
Gu Liang had barely stepped outside when he was engulfed by the surging crowd. "It wasn't me! The water is fine!" His protests were drowned out by the roar of voices.
Amid the chaos, A Lie appeared with his men, his face etched with grief and fury. "Hold your claws! This matter hasn't been sorted out yet!"He feigned reprimanding the crowd, then fixed Gu Liang with a gaze as sharp as a poisoned bone spear, his voice suddenly harsh: "Gu Liang! This deadly water flowed from your hands! The tribe suffers because of you! Until you wash away this filth with your blood, your bones shall rot in the stone dungeon!"
He skillfully placed both the burden of "investigation" and the implication of "guilt" squarely upon Gu Liang's shoulders.
Gulian stared at A Lie's face—seemingly just yet utterly venomous—and at the tribe members around him, now stripped of reason. His heart sank into an icy abyss. This was a dead end.
[System Emergency Warning: Target Gu Liang has suffered severe frame-up and betrayal. Collective trust has completely collapsed, posing a direct threat to his life! Despair and hatred values are skyrocketing! Darkening value has exceeded 30%! Danger! Danger!]
Emma's figure appeared amidst the crowd, her expression as cold as frost.
The sweet spring had turned to poison. And the one who drew the water became the sacrificial lamb.
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