Chapter 93: Collecting Cows, Alone on the Prairie

In the wild woods, a figure suddenly appeared out of thin air. She gripped a gun in her right hand, her left half-raised, ready to unleash a deadly move at any moment. But when she saw the scene before her, she froze in surprise.

All the trees had vanished. The ground was covered in large patches of old scorch marks, but fresh, lush wild grass had grown vigorously, reaching up to her knees.

What…?

She had arrived at a different place? Impossible. Wherever she entered the “Ning” (her storage space), she should exit at the same spot. That never changed.

Looking around, she saw the plain stretched out before her, but the main group was nowhere to be seen. The once withered grass was now green and tall, with scattered abandoned vehicles and tents dotting the landscape.

In the distance, there was still that dairy farm.

It really was the same place.

How long had she been unconscious? Why did it feel like the world had changed entirely?

She started walking through the tall wild grass. Occasionally, a fist-sized grasshopper would leap out, a huge bee would buzz past, and a lumpy toad would puff up its belly in the grass, eyeing her warily with eyes as big as buns.

Bian Changxi felt like she’d stepped into a primeval prairie.

She’d seen these things in her previous life, but encountering them so suddenly felt surreal—what a leap.

Suddenly, something darted through the grass. With a sweeping motion, Bian Changxi thought it was some kind of animal. Instantly, a Tang sword with a purple-red scabbard appeared in her hand. The blade flashed, brighter and more dazzling than the midday sun, as she slashed backhanded. Something was sliced cleanly in two. She bent down and picked it up from the grass—it was the stem of a plant, about as thick as a finger.

Was this… a mutated plant?

She tossed the stem aside and waited a moment, but nothing else happened.

All she could see was wild grass. As far as she knew, the most dangerous mutated plants in the apocalypse were mostly trees and shrubs, along with some strange flowers. This place didn’t seem particularly dangerous.

She continued forward, Tang sword in hand, staying alert.

The Tang sword was one of the cold weapons she’d acquired along with the firearms. Honestly, she’d gotten a lot of good stuff from under that 4S dealership. She hadn’t used it before because it would’ve been hard to explain suddenly having such a thing, but now that she was alone—and her old straight sword was gone—she much preferred using a blade, and nothing suited her better than this Tang sword.

The sword was over eighty centimeters long, with a scabbard and hilt made of hard wood tinged with purple and red, inlaid with gold floral patterns—classic and weighty designs, but nothing else distinctive.

Compared to her previous straight sword, this blade was longer, heavier, with a thicker spine and sharper edge, made of far superior materials. The craftsmanship was exquisite, and it felt substantial in her hand.

She’d loved it at first sight.

She sheathed the sword and advanced, wading through the endless wild grass, soon arriving at the dairy farm.

She’d come here because it was the only place she couldn’t see into clearly—maybe there were still people inside, or something else. She wanted to know the exact date, what had happened, and where the main group had gone.

But who knew? It looked like she wouldn’t find any answers here.

The place that zombies had once besieged in vain was now a mess. The outer area was trampled beyond recognition. Only the last factory building, made of reinforced steel plates, remained standing, but now it was covered in vines. The lush green creepers clung tightly to the building, climbing halfway up the walls, blooming with delicate, elegant flowers. Before the apocalypse, this might have been a lovely sight, but now, such rampant plant growth usually meant danger.

Bian Changxi stopped and closed her eyes to sense her surroundings.

She was a wood-type ability user, and though she’d only just reached the second tier, her sensitivity to plants far exceeded that of ordinary people. Others could only see a plant’s appearance and maybe smell a little of its scent, but she could sense its life force—whether it was strong or weak, good or evil.

Though for now, it was just a vague impression.

She opened her eyes. The vines ahead didn’t seem dangerous—just mutated to grow and reproduce rapidly after the apocalypse.

And the plants around the dairy farm didn’t give off any malicious aura either.

She moved on. When people had evacuated, they must have thoroughly scavenged the place. There was nothing of value left—not even a shovel for feed—just a lot of junk buried under the wild grass.

She approached the relatively intact factory building. The door wasn’t locked. Inside were two rows of cattle pens, the floor stained with blood and scattered with cow skeletons. She remembered they’d been slaughtering cattle here before—was this the scene?

No people, no clocks or calendars. She sighed and turned to leave, when she suddenly heard a faint mooing.

Cows!

She followed the sound to a corner, where a small feed delivery cart was parked. Steel plates and corrugated cardboard were laid underneath, and the sound was coming from below.

Listening closely, the mooing was very weak.

Bian Changxi thought for a moment, put down her sword, pushed the cart aside, and moved the coverings. Sure enough, there was a cramped space underneath, where a large and a small black-and-white dairy cow lay huddled together, both emaciated and listless.

The big cow licked the little one, occasionally letting out hoarse, desperate cries. It had dug a hole in the corner, where the creeping vines from outside grew in. The branches and leaves poking through had been gnawed down to nothing—clearly, this was the cows’ only food.

Hearing the commotion above, the big cow lifted its head and mooed anxiously at Bian Changxi, trying to stand but collapsing again and again.

She was amazed—she hadn’t expected to find two cows hidden here. If it had been two people, that would’ve made more sense. She looked them over carefully and was delighted to find both were still alive and unmutated. The big one was a dairy cow, the little one’s gender was unclear.

Dairy cows! A ranch without dairy cows wasn’t a real ranch. She’d always had her eye on this species.

Someone must have hidden them here on purpose.

She remembered hearing someone shout “Go!” at the dairy farm that night, and that there’d been trouble there. Maybe a cow lover couldn’t bear to let them die and hid them away?

Thinking this, she sent out a vine to touch the two cows, and with a thought, stored them in her “Ning.” Only then did she notice a tattered feed sack below—whoever hid them must have thrown in some feed to keep them alive. The mother cow, after finishing the feed, had tried to eat plants however she could.

In high spirits, she clapped her hands, then released the two cows back onto the ground. The “Ning” was too small—if the cows took up all the space, her mouse would surely protest.

She checked them over. Both were starving, especially the calf, which looked like it had just been born—tiny, wrinkled, and limp, its eyes barely able to open. Imagining a future where cows strolled leisurely around her “Ning,” Bian Changxi felt a surge of excitement. She gave them some water, went out to gather edible grass, and searched for more feed. She found plenty in another dilapidated building, left a bag for them to eat now, and stored the rest.

She also found some equipment for milking and processing raw milk. Since raw milk couldn’t be drunk directly and needed sterilizing, having this equipment meant she wouldn’t have to boil it in a big pot herself. Pleased, she stored as much as she could. As for not knowing how to use it—she could always study the manuals later.

By the time she finished, it was noon. The sun was high, golden light pouring down. She figured the convoy must have headed for Sucheng, but there were two possible routes: either directly through Longyue Town, or, if the crisis there hadn’t been resolved, they’d have been forced to take the mountain road, just like in her previous life. Either way, she probably couldn’t catch up. Since she was on her own now, she’d have to check out Longyue Town first.

But her injuries hadn’t fully healed, and now she had two cows to care for. She’d need to recover and expand her “Ning” before setting out. Though this was the wilderness, the area was open and, as she’d seen on her way here, not particularly dangerous. She might as well stay here for a while.

Decision made, she went out to gather straw and other things from the dairy farm, laying them out in the sun to dry for the cows’ bedding that night. Once the cows had eaten, she led them out to bask in the sun and perk up, brought out two buckets of water to warm in the sun for their baths.

Luckily, though the creek had turned into a giant water tank, it was inexhaustible—though the poor fish and shrimp inside were now packed in so tightly they could barely move.

Bian Changxi scrubbed the cows from top to bottom—they were filthy, covered in mud and manure.

All this, just for the future glory of her ranch—she really was putting in the work.

After cleaning them up, she thought of her mouse, alone in the “Ning” all day, probably bored out of its mind. She carried it out, still wrapped in its little air-conditioned blanket, and set it by the window.

The little thing was still asleep. It had been sleeping when she left that morning and hadn’t woken up since.

She patted it, sat down to eat something, and took out a second-tier green core.

She’d already used up her first-tier green cores, and the third-tier one Gu Xu had given her had long since turned to dust. Only this second-tier core, traded from Chen Haitao, remained.

Cores were precious, but recovery was more important. She couldn’t wait for her body to heal slowly.

She closed her eyes and began absorbing the energy.

After advancing to the second tier, absorbing this incomplete second-tier core was effortless—almost not enough. The energy flowed into her body, thickening her inner energy streams, gentle and natural. In the center of the glowing green energy, red light surged, wrapped in white mist—the red was fiery, the white icy cold, but under the green’s mediation, they became nourishing, healing every damaged part of her body.

She sat in stillness for a long, long time, until the sun slanted westward. Only then did she open her eyes, feeling refreshed and invigorated.

But a thoughtful look crossed her face.

What exactly were those red and white energies?