Now, as the sky gradually brightened, the forest around became shrouded by thick fog, with very low visibility.
Tang Han, holding the infant, had lost her sense of direction and was getting increasingly lost in the woods, veering farther and farther off course.
Damnit, Tang Han realized the forest was becoming weirder and weirder, as if there was no way to walk out of it no matter what.
She stopped her steps, observing the surroundings.
It was daylight now, and the fog was getting thicker, the early spring forest still permeated with a chill.
She couldn't help but hug the infant in her arms tighter; just born and already fleeing, it was truly pitiable.
The sun couldn't penetrate the dense fog, and Tang Han couldn't use it to discern the direction either; through the fog, everything around seemed indistinguishable.
She checked the time and realized that several hours had inadvertently passed.
Now, it was past ten in the morning.
Would this dense fog dissipate by noon?
