"It all began because of Heaven..."
Upon hearing these words, Tripitaka's gaze unconsciously dimmed.
This was something the old county prince had already told him long ago; now it was merely confirmed again by Louis Quickpaw.
Even so, Tripitaka could not hide the helplessness on his face.
Sometimes, mortals are truly insignificant. A single word from a celestial—no matter the reason—can condemn countless lives to untimely death, leaving not the slightest room for negotiation.
After a long silence, Tripitaka finally spoke softly: "Do you know... the reason?"
"Not entirely clear yet." Louis Quickpaw shook out his sleeves, raised his eyebrows, and deliberately stretched his words: "Basically, it's that rain is limited. Mortals are all flesh and blood—if there's more here, there must be less elsewhere. Nothing to be done about it."
"Limited..." Tripitaka's brows furrowed involuntarily.
"That's exactly it." Louis Quickpaw didn't stand on ceremony. With a light hop, he sat down on the chair beside Tripitaka and said meaningfully, "In other words, if you solve the drought here, somewhere else will inevitably suffer drought. No one can solve all the droughts at once."
As he spoke, Louis Quickpaw deliberately picked up the half-piece of thin bread on the desk and began to chew.