His voice was low and dangerous, as if he were forcing each word through clenched teeth.
Lu Yu rubbed his aching arm, his expression grave but his tone calm. "I don't know the exact reason."
He looked up at the fissure in the distance, which was still spreading. A flicker of worry crossed his eyes. "But this land...
...won't last much longer."
Before he could finish, a scene suddenly flashed through his mind—blurry, yet familiar.
It was a memory from his first life: the same splitting earth, the same collapsing sky, the same apocalyptic scene.
At that moment, his heart clenched violently, as if he had a premonition of some irreversible disaster approaching.
Jiang Ji slapped his thigh and shouted, "Then what about Chu Jing?!"
His shout was urgent and loud, tinged with panic and unease, as if he expected an immediate answer.
But aside from the howling wind, there was no reply.
