The wind suddenly rose, sweeping up the frost and snow among the grass, brushing across faces with a slight chill.
In the night, Yun Rong's fair face was like icy jade, her lips devoid of color, turning greenish pale. Yet her voice was gentle and slow: "It's nothing, just that the next part of the journey, you'll have to walk by yourself."
As the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, she softly murmured with eyes reflecting warmth like distant mountains and waters: "I need to rest for a while."
Baili An saw her state and knew that it wasn't as simple as 'just needing a bit of rest'.
He walked over, gently untied the Snow Sword strapped behind her back, crouched down, pressed his right hand to the ground, and tenderly loosened the blood-colored roots entwining her legs.
Upon touching those crimson roots, Baili An was instantly filled with apprehension.
