He rushed forward, staring at the empty clay cup, his voice trembling. "Where is she?! Where did she go?!"
The clay cup was the core of the array, the key item binding her spiritual consciousness.
But now, only a wisp of green smoke rose slowly from the cup, like the embers left after a ritual's end.
His breathing grew ragged, and cold sweat trickled down from his temples.
'This is impossible...'
'My array could never fail!'
A sudden chill shot down his spine.
It was a bone-deep cold, as if icy fingers were slowly crawling up his vertebrae.
His muscles tensed instantly, the hair on his arms standing on end.
He didn't dare to turn around, yet he had to.
A crisp, clear voice sounded softly behind him:
"Are you looking for me?"
The voice was like a mountain spring dripping on stone—limpid, yet carrying a deadly chill.
Every word was like a needle, piercing his eardrums and stabbing straight into his brain.
Qie'er spun around abruptly, meeting Chu Jing's eyes.
