Jiang Xiaoxiao returned with a bundle of firewood.
Just so stubborn, the firewood is taller than her.
Then she saw the wide-open cave entrance, with a cold wind swirling snow onto the ground.
Inside the cave, none of the four people were there, their backpacks scattered everywhere, along with already congealed blood stains.
The firewood on Jiang Xiaoxiao's shoulder fell to the ground, and the cave was littered with many footprints. At the time, many people must have appeared here. Had she not left, she wouldn't have been directly rounded up.
However, slightly relieved by the sight of the bloodstains, it seems the injury wasn't serious; it should have been just one person injured.
The others were merely taken away.
It's been an hour since she left and returned.
Quickly chasing after them, the wind and snow had long erased all traces.
Jiang Xiaoxiao focused her gaze into the distance, still unable to see any clues, even though her eyes could see far.
