The autumn colors are thick in the deep mountains, and the maple leaves are as red as blood, all over the Qingyao Mountain. Bai Li dragged her injured hind leg and ran through the forest, her snow-white fur stained with blood. The three-hundred-year-old spirit fox is now in a state of disarray, and the barking of hounds behind him is getting closer and closer.
"This catastrophe has not yet passed, but we encountered a disaster first." Bai Li smiled bitterly in her heart, and the severe pain from her right hind leg made her eyesight go dark. The silver arrow quenched with snake venom was deeply embedded in his muscles, and every step he took was like stepping on the tip of a knife.
