Chapter 74: Drifting Further Apart

Stories about female protagonists in mining regions with a realistic touch mostly trace back to the war years of the last century. Bai Yu didn’t have the time or energy to exhaust herself with extensive research, nor did she have any intention of writing about a female lead. She wanted to refuse, but facing Si Yao’s dark, steady gaze, she blurted out, “Do you have any information?”

Si Yao pressed her lips together. “I suppose I do.”

Bai Yu was left speechless.

Everyone was curious. Su Rimu and Qi Ran were both quite young; no one knew if the second-place winner would also be another promising youth.

“Sword Spirit Control?” Mu Feng was startled. Though he wasn’t a stranger to martial arts techniques, it was the first time he’d heard the term “Sword Spirit Control.”

As crimson droplets scattered, the black flames beneath his feet seemed to leap and swirl with even greater ferocity, as if they had a will of their own, hungrily devouring Mu Feng’s very life force.

“No! You cannot leave!” Ignoring the searing heat, Yelü Yue reached out to grab Chu Mo.

The rain fell heavier and heavier. The voices of people’s hearts were drowned out, and that persistent desire would inevitably burst forth, descending upon the world like the torrential downpour.

“Iron Bell Shield!” The Daoist on the river frowned. This was one of the greatest skills of the Buddhist sect, and the Iron Bell Shield at Kalan’s level was nearly impenetrable. To break through, one would first have to shatter the Iron Bell itself.

Following Ken’s gesture, Hua Li looked over and indeed saw that patch of snow was quite different from the others, clearly rising and falling.

Su Rimu’s face flushed with shock at the sight, and she was at a loss for words. When she glanced at Fu Yuanzhou again, she suddenly noticed a smile on his face so charming it could upend the world.

“So what do you think we should do now?” Crane Eight’s voice was a little loud, and Tiancheng suddenly made a shushing gesture. He sensed two powerful auras gradually approaching.

“Have them all leave,” Lu Zhaoling said to the assistant physician. At this point, his word carried more weight than hers.

Resembling a withered tree, emaciated and frail, with deeply sunken eye sockets and protruding eyeballs rimmed with crimson—at first glance, it was like a zombie straight out of a horror film.

Ying Li gazed at the scene below. Distracted for a moment, he sensed something was amiss and immediately called out, “Murong Yuan, remember well what happened today.” Then, choosing a direction, he fled with all his might.

At the same time, Jiang Yue visualized himself as a block of profound iron standing atop thin ice, being hammered by a giant mallet. He had to withstand the blows while dispersing the force, lest the ice beneath him shatter.

If Qin Bei were just an ordinary person, Xiao Qingru might have encouraged her close friend to follow her heart and be brave for herself just this once.

After speaking, the chubby one channeled spiritual energy into the Moon Wheel, launching a rapid succession of attacks against Wang Yi’s barrier. Wang Yi continuously released spiritual energy as well, maintaining the barrier’s strength.

A complex glint flashed through the Flame Dragon’s eyes—there was both resolve and helplessness within them. It took a deep breath, trying to maintain its composure.

In the mountain forest, the most lethal threats came from venomous snakes and insects. Jiang Yue wasn’t afraid, but there weren’t just poisonous creatures here; there were also many pythons as thick as barrels.

They could also follow the river across the broad-leafed plain to explore further afield. After all, rivers were the source of all life, and there would never be a shortage of prey nearby.

Jiang Yue moved with utter nonchalance, as if indifferent to everything around him, exuding a languid, sickly air without even trying.

A chill gripped Lü Zhi’s heart, and her expression grew grave. If Cui Yan wasn’t mistaken, then someone must have entered the room and moved the mirror.

Zhang Xue’s thoughts raced, growing more terrified the longer she pondered, afraid she’d somehow traveled to the late Qing or early Republican era and would be mistaken for a monster and burned alive. Lost in this abject terror, her eyelids drooped without her realizing, and in a haze, she dreamed she’d returned to the present day, and her journey to the Qing dynasty was nothing but a fleeting, illusory dream.