429: Chapter 429 The Chen Family Prepares for War, the Future is Full of Hope

The wind had just died down, and the withered trees on the cliff edge were still swaying their branches. The spirit birds had flown far away, but that shout of "Charge—" was still echoing in the valley.

Every inch of land in the Qiming Plain had heard it.

A young man transplanting seedlings in the Medicinal Field straightened his back, wiped away his sweat, and without a word, turned and ran back.

His feet were covered in mud, and his pant legs were rolled up to his knees. As he ran, he shouted, "Quick! The Family Head has spoken, prepare for battle!"

Another old man carrying a hoe stood on the ridge of the field, squinting toward the high platform, the wind blowing through his graying beard.

He didn't move, nor did he respond; he simply turned the hoe upside down and tapped it gently against the ground three times—

This was a secret signal passed down by the older generation, meaning "Understood, keeping calm, but ready."

The training grounds were already in an uproar.

A dozen or so youths were gathered in front of the martial arts stage. One of them, who had been practicing swordplay, suddenly sheathed his sword with a metallic "clang."

"I heard it!" he yelled. "The Family Head said 'Charge,' so what are we waiting for? Let's start extra training today!"

"Are you stupid?" The chubby boy wearing glasses beside him rolled his eyes. "It's not telling you to throw your life away right now; it's telling you to fight with your brain! Go register for the rotation training schedule first; don't start fighting over the training area like last time."

"Then you go sign up!"

"I already did! Foundation Establishment guidance group, 3 PM, open space east of the Artifact Refining Workshop. Come if you want, or don't!"

As the two argued, the others laughed. Once finished, they all simultaneously pulled out their Family communication talismans, swiped their fingers across them, and someone muttered:

"Applying to join the Defensive Formation cooperative training group... Has it been approved yet?"

"Approved, approved. The System just flashed green."

"Then I'll change it. I want to join the technical research group too! I want to work on that new-style warning tower! I heard it can automatically distinguish between friend and foe!"

"Are you capable? You've connected the Spiritual Qi circuits backward three times!"

"I know how to do it now! If you don't believe me, watch!"

As he spoke, he actually pulled out a rune board and started debugging it. A group of people immediately crowded around, pointing and chattering.

A line had also formed at the entrance of the Artifact Refining Workshop.

The craftsmen, who should have been taking their lunch break, had all arrived, carrying tool bags, blueprints, and semi-finished parts, with "I'm not tired, I can work" written all over their faces.

A middle-aged man with a grease-stained face pounded on the door: "Open up! Don't pretend to be asleep! I know you're all in there! The Family Head has spoken; who dares to slack off at a time like this?"

The door slid open with a "clatter," and the sound of hammers striking iron echoed from within, sparks flying everywhere.

An old, shirtless craftsman poked his head out: "Who's slacking off? We started working long ago! We just lit the backup furnace and turned the energy interface to the maximum setting. We're just waiting for the Materials to be delivered!"

"I've brought the Materials!" A person outside the door rushed in holding a large box. "Mystic Iron Sand refined overnight, 92% purity. Is that enough?"

"Enough! Of course it's enough! Give it to me!"

The box hit the ground with a clatter, and five or six people immediately swarmed around it. Some took out rulers to measure, some measured the Spiritual Pressure, and others scraped a bit of powder with their fingernails and tasted it.

"Hmm, a bit astringent, but full of Spiritual Qi. No problem!"

"Can you stop putting everything in your mouth?"

"It's a habit. My dad taught me that way."

Deep in the medicinal garden, several young herbalists were taking inventory.

"There are still seventeen stalks of century-old Soul-Calming Grass."

"The stock of Hemostasis Vines is enough to last two months."

"What about the Spirit Mist Incense?"

"Only three and a half jars left. We need to restock quickly."

"I'll go submit an application to Elder Lin."

"Don't rush. Make a list first. Since the Family Head has ordered preparations for battle, resources will definitely be allocated centrally. We can't act recklessly."

"That's true. We aren't just getting into a fight this time; we are preparing to fight a long war."

Once these words were spoken, the group fell silent.

Then someone said, "Thirty years ago, when the Zerg came, we had nothing—not even a single shield. It's different now. Mechs, Formations, communication talismans... Our Chen Family has stood up."

"That's why we need to stay steady," another person nodded. "The shout from the Family Head wasn't to make us go crazy; it was to make us clear-headed."

Before the words faded, a roar came from the sky.

Three patrol mechs swept past at low altitude, the rune lights on their bodies flashing blue. That was the Family's highest-level mobilization signal.

A broadcast came from the cockpit: "Attention all clansmen, per the Family Head's instructions, activate the Level 1 combat readiness response mechanism immediately. All regional heads, please submit personnel rosters and supply lists within one hour."

The people below looked up. No one panicked, and no one asked why.

They knew.

The Family Head wouldn't shout like that for no reason.

After the voice from the high platform faded, the entire Qiming Plain was like a long-dormant machine that had been suddenly powered on.

Gears engaged, axles turned, and flames rose.

When Chen Wuwang walked down from the high platform, it was already broad daylight.

He didn't return to his residence, nor did he summon anyone; he simply walked slowly down the mountain path. His pace wasn't fast, but every step was firm.

Passing by the Medicinal Field, he saw two children squatting at the edge of the field drawing, gesturing at something on the ground with a branch.

Walking closer, he saw it was actually a defense layout map.

"This is the West Ridge slope entrance; we need to place two sentry mechs here," a little boy pointed. "My dad said that's the easiest place for someone to flank us."

"What about here?" the little girl asked.

"We don't need to here; there's a natural cliff. Unless they can fly up."

"But what if the enemy can fly?"

"Then we'll have the aerial team keep a close watch!"

Chen Wuwang stood behind them listening for a long time without making a sound, the corners of his mouth twitching.

He continued walking forward and arrived outside the Artifact Refining Workshop, hearing a lively argument inside.

"I'm telling you, this cannon barrel needs to be lengthened by three inches! Only then can the range cover the entire North Valley!"

"Lengthen your head! The energy can't support it! This is already the maximum output!"

"Then can't you optimize the energy conversion rate?"

"You think I haven't tried? I tried seven times yesterday and it exploded twice, nearly burning off my eyebrows!"

"Then try again! The Family Head said the future is ours; we can't let him down!"

Chen Wuwang listened, his fingers unconsciously tapping the hilt of the dagger at his waist, and turned to enter the dispatch room next door.

A huge spirit-light screen hung on the wall, displaying real-time dynamics of all areas in the Family: the number of people at the training grounds, Artifact Refining progress, medicinal herb inventory, energy consumption...

He stared at it for a while, picked up a pen, and wrote two lines on a piece of paper: "At 11:45 AM, open the B-line backup Spiritual Vein interface. At 7:00 PM sharp, conduct unified Foundation Establishment guidance and Spiritual Qi stability tests."

After writing, he tucked it into a transmission cylinder and pressed send.

A response bell rang outside very soon.

He knew these suggestions wouldn't be signed, and no one would know who gave the orders.

But they would take effect—because he understood these people. He knew what they wanted and what they feared.

He didn't need to stand up and shout every day.

He only needed to keep this machine running; naturally, there would be people to add oil, repair the axles, and stand guard at night.

In the evening, the training grounds were brightly lit.

The youths were practicing a newly compiled combined attack Formation; their movements were still clumsy, and they often bumped into each other.

"You stepped on my foot!"

"You have the nerve to say that? You're the one who stood in the wrong position!"

"One more time! Stop arguing!"

With a low shout, everyone immediately shut up and reformed the Formation.

On a distant watchtower, several old clansmen watched silently.

One of them said softly, "Doesn't it look like back then?"

"It does. We trained like this back then too, only we didn't have mechs or rune boards; we relied on our fists and our lives."

"It's better now; the children have confidence."

"But it's also harder," another person shook his head. "Before, we fought with ruthlessness; now, we fight with our brains. One wrong step, and the whole plan collapses."

"That's why the Family Head shouted that," the elder who spoke first looked at the high platform in the center of the Qiming Plain, the lights reflecting in his wrinkles. "He doesn't want us to fight to the death; he wants us to win and live."

It was late at night.

Most of the young people were still busy, but a few small children couldn't hold on any longer and fell asleep in their elders' arms, their little faces pressed against rough cloth garments, breathing evenly.

A five-year-old child mumbled in his sleep, "I want to... be a mech pilot..."

His grandfather smiled, stroked his head, and said softly, "Alright, Grandpa will save up Spirit Stones for you."

Chen Wuwang stood at the top of the Star-Gazing Pavilion, his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye slowly scanning the land.

The lights below were shining in patches, like stars that had fallen to the human world.

He pulled something from his bosom—a broken wooden sword, long since worn smooth, with some cracks along the edges.

He caressed it gently and whispered, "You don't have to hide anymore."

He looked up at the sky; the star trails were flowing across the heavens, and the lights on the ground were like a tapestry.

He muttered, "The future... will be better."

After speaking, he turned and went downstairs.

His footsteps were firm, and his silhouette merged into the patrol column in the night.