Zhou Jiuzhen's eyes widened like copper bells, and he froze on the spot, thinking he was hallucinating.

"You... are a clam? Then what am I? A male clam?"

Ling Huanwu was speechless for a moment, extremely anxious.

She had already secretly used the spiritual spring water to water the clam.

It was discovered that the spring water had no effect on seafood.

Considering that Zhou Jiuzhen's thoughts could control the climate in the space, this bold conjecture came about.

Perhaps Zhou Jiuzhen's ideas can change the properties of the spiritual spring water, allowing it to gradually upgrade and save these half-cooked clams.

So she quickly coaxed him again, "Jiuzhen, I'm actually a clam spirit, I'm dying, please give me water to save me..."

At this, Zhou Jiuzhen seemed to have been struck by lightning, and tears instantly streamed down his face.

He quickly squatted down beside the spiritual spring, cupped his hands together, and sprinkled the water drop by drop onto Ling Huanwu.

As Ling Huanwu watched the little clam she had secretly hidden in her hand grow rapidly, she couldn't hide the joy in her eyes.

She instantly recovered and discarded the seashell props she was carrying. She took a pool of spiritual spring water out of the space and went to irrigate the clam fields on the mudflats, leaving the bewildered Zhou Jiuzhen in the space.

Half an hour later, Ling Huanwu returned dejectedly after finding that the clam had not changed at all. She couldn't understand why the spiritual spring water, which had clearly been effective on the clam, had stopped working so quickly.

She glanced at Zhou Jiuzhen, who was lying in the space looking hesitant and with dried tear stains on his face, and her eyes lit up as she understood the key to the matter.

The spiritual spring water must have been mixed with Zhou Jiuzhen's salty tears.

Ling Huanwu chuckled and slowly approached Zhou Jiuzhen.

Now, she has to figure out a way to make this week eighteen cry.

The more tears the better...