Que Meng's eyes instantly reddened, tears welling up as her voice sounded like tearing silk. "Th-Then what do we do? Can you... can you help him? Please..."
"Don't panic."
Chu Jing raised her eyes. Her gaze was as calm as a deep, still pool, without a ripple. "We'll find a way."
For some reason, the moment Que Meng looked into her eyes, the tangled knot of panic in her chest strangely eased its grip.
It was as if, so long as Chu Jing was there, she could hold up the sky even if it were to fall.
"Little Yuan! Little Yuan, I'm here—!"
A roar like a clap of thunder shattered the cave's silence without warning!
Qiu Ye's figure burst out from behind the waterfall, sending water splashing everywhere. His robes were soaked through, his hair plastered messily to his temples.
Following the unique scent from his memory, he had stumbled all the way here, his eyes bloodshot and his chest heaving violently.
