The sky was gloomy and the north wind became more and more biting. Li E dragged the dying Zhang Xingming away and finally rested in a ruined temple.
The weak firelight in the temple illuminated the falling snow outside. Zhang Xingming was lying on the ground, his face pale and his lips increasingly chapped. The wound on his abdomen had been bandaged, but he still couldn't exert any strength. He glanced around with his peripheral vision and saw Li E slumped next to the fire, her white clothes stained with blood. Today's danger had destroyed his last trace of dignity, and he didn't want to drag her down anymore.
He opened his mouth slightly, his voice was low and hoarse, but he was determined. "Ms. Li, leave me alone and leave quickly."
Li E came back to her senses, wiped the blood on her hands with the corner of her clothes, roasted it on the fire, and covered it on his cheeks. Seeing her silence, he struggled to get up.
"Do you still remember the little words you asked me that day? I want to say it now."
Zhang Xingming's eyes flashed. The answer he had not heard in the past had long since disappeared after several setbacks.
"Yu Yao Nu, my nickname is Yu Yao Nu."
Intention: "A scholar cannot be without great perseverance, and the road ahead is long and arduous."