At the bottom of Fallen Immortal Valley.
Darkness.
A darkness so thick it seemed impossible to disperse.
Cold.
A bone-chilling cold, sharp as ice picks.
Ye Lingxi curled up on a pile of rubble.
Her thin pink skirt was smeared with grime. Blood trickled from several scrapes on her knees, mingling with her tears.
Her tears fell like beads from a broken string, striking the ground and breaking into faint sounds that rang out clearly in the deathly silence of the valley floor.
Black miasma slithered upward like a venomous snake, crawling along her hem.
It coiled around her wrists and neck.
The icy cold made her teeth chatter, but she didn't dare stop crying.
“Waaah… Senior Brother…”
“Your shoulder is still bleeding… It's all my fault. If I hadn't insisted on coming to Fallen Immortal Valley to look for some spirit herb…”
