Although the neighboring country’s nuclear missile technology lagged far behind Hualan’s, it would still take a maximum of twenty minutes from launch to reach its target coordinates.
As everyone knew, nuclear missiles were weapons that anti-missile systems could not intercept—which was precisely why nuclear deterrence was so terrifying.
The entire world had already been watching Hualan because of Lou Ting. When news broke that the neighboring nation had fired a nuclear warhead at Hualan, an uproar swept across the globe, instantly drawing all attention away from Lou Ting.
In Nevergone District, the vast Black Tortoise shell in the sky completely blocked out the sunlight, forcing the streetlights back on. Everyone looked up at the sky, praying silently in their hearts. Their good life had only just begun!
Only Chu Xusheng and Min Yue had the mental bandwidth to think about other things.
Chu Xusheng was consumed by anxiety and rage, grinding his teeth. “That neighboring country! Damn them!!”
If it weren’t for their sudden interference, Feng Yilian and the others would already be in the Ice Age Realm rescuing Jing Pei and Qiu Fa. Now, everything was delayed again! In a frozen hell like that, every passing second increased the danger to their lives!
Beside him, Min Yue stuffed food furiously into her mouth, chewing with a grim, ferocious expression. She even scolded Chu Xusheng, who was too anxious to eat: “Eat! Food is fuel—how can you do anything without food? Eat.”
Chu Xusheng replied, “Be careful you don’t throw it up.”
“I won’t. After eating, I’m taking a nap. Fretting won’t accomplish anything right now. My body is my foundation—only by eating and resting properly will I have the strength to fight!”
With that, Min Yue shoveled rice into her mouth. Her gaze remained fixed on an empty spot on the coffee table, her mind clinging firmly to the final deadline. If that final moment arrived and Jing Pei still hadn’t come out, then it would be her turn to act.
Chu Xusheng didn’t possess her ironclad composure. The rich aroma of the food did nothing to whet his appetite, only making him feel nauseous. He turned back to the television to monitor the ongoing situation, praying the nuclear missile would be resolved quickly so people could be freed up to enter the Ice Age Realm and save them.
With the combined efforts of Atavists across the nation, Wu Ying’s Black Tortoise shell expanded at astonishing speed, quickly covering the nuclear warhead’s target coordinates and the surrounding area, forming a reassuring layer of protection. Above the shell, several Atavists were operating in the near-vacuum of the high atmosphere.
“We’ve locked onto the nuclear missile’s trajectory! Ten o’clock direction!”
The moment the message was transmitted, everyone dashed toward the missile’s approach vector, slicing through the cold, damp clouds.
At this point, only three minutes remained before the nuclear warhead reached its target coordinates.
With one minute left, they finally caught sight of the missile—barreling forward with a violent, destructive aura that seemed capable of obliterating everything.
“Leave it to me! I’ll dump it into space!” roared an Atavist being carried on the back of a Phoenix Atavist. Riding the Phoenix at extreme speed toward the nuclear missile, he poured all his Atavist power into tearing open a black hole in the sky directly in front of them.
He was a spatial-type Atavist. This black hole led to deep space outside the solar system. The missile could not be allowed to land, nor could it be allowed to detonate in the high atmosphere. A high-altitude nuclear detonation would generate a massive electromagnetic pulse capable of instantly frying their satellites and urban power grids, causing catastrophic damage.
The black hole opened at the exact right position and size. The nuclear warhead plunged into the void with a heavy thud, disappearing into the far reaches beyond the solar system.
“Awesome—” Just as everyone began to sigh in relief, another massive nuclear warhead grazed past them, sending a cold shiver down their spines.
“What?!” They whipped their heads around, realizing the warhead they had just dumped into space might not have been the real one.
“Damn it! It’s a MIRV—a multiple independent reentry vehicle!”
A MIRV design could confuse defenders, making it impossible to determine which detached warhead carried the actual nuclear payload. While this design had existed before, this particular warhead had been upgraded with cutting-edge Atavist technology and materials specifically to fool defenders’ detection gear—a detail the neighboring nation had failed to convey in time.
Perhaps they couldn’t be blamed for negligence; their own country was already in utter chaos. Meanwhile, Hualan’s Atavists were handling a nuclear threat for the first time, assembled on short notice with no prior experience to draw from.
Opening a black hole to deep space had completely drained the spatial Atavist’s power; he wouldn’t be able to open another one for at least a week.
Now, less than thirty seconds remained before the warhead altered its course and plunged toward the Black Tortoise shell below. The people beneath the shell would be safe, but those standing above it…
At that critical moment, a figure shot up from below. His hands, forged like solid steel, clamped firmly around the nuclear warhead. His legs erupted with roaring thrusters like rocket boosters as he hoisted the missile—which was several times larger than himself—and forced it off course, surging in another direction.
It was Liu Yin!
Joy flashed across everyone’s faces. Of course! Among them, Liu Yin was the only one who had lived through wartime, facing countless missiles in his past!
But where was he taking it? Deep space? There wasn’t enough time!
Everyone watched intently as Liu Yin tore through a heavy raincloud. Suddenly, Tao Ying appeared before them. She stood on a small mound of soil, a door beside her. Opening the door revealed the entrance to a spacetime bubble behind it. Carrying the nuclear warhead, Liu Yin charged straight into the portal.
The detonation countdown on the warhead beeped frantically, speeding up by the second.
Five, four, three, two, one!
Liu Yin let go of the missile, letting it plunge deep into the portal.
Slam! Tao Ying shut the door in an instant.
As Liu Yin had rushed over with the nuclear warhead, her roots had already driven deep into the mound of soil beneath her feet, instantly draining all its nutrients. Her body stretched rapidly like a half-human, half-roots creature, spiraling around the door the moment it closed. Upon closer inspection, the door wasn’t an ordinary door—it was another Black Tortoise shell.
BOOM!
Tao Ying gritted her teeth, coiling her body tightly around the shell. The blood-red tree trunk wrapped around the door began to crack and splinter, oozing thick sap and blood. There was too little soil; although she had hastily dug up as much earth as possible from inside the bubble and poured a bucket of nutrient solution over it, it still wasn’t enough.
Liu Yin tumbled across Wu Ying’s Black Tortoise shell several times before digging his fingers into the surface to stop himself. He immediately shot forward again, extending both arms as metal chains flew out, binding himself, Tao Ying, and the Black Tortoise shell together to withstand the tremendous shockwave of the nuclear explosion inside the bubble.
The surrounding Atavists snapped back to reality and rushed over, pouring all their strength into holding the shell alongside Tao Ying and Liu Yin.
The shockwave was colossal. The Atavists piled above the shell strained until their faces flushed red and veins bulged along their foreheads. The sheer thrust pushing up against the shell felt as if a single lapse in strength would blow them all into oblivion.
After an agonizing wait, the explosive force inside the bubble gradually subsided.
All that remained was to install a new door to replace the Black Tortoise shell, permanently sealing the nuclear warhead and its radioactive fallout inside the dying spacetime bubble.
Phew! Inside the central government’s conference room, everyone let out a long, heavy breath.
“A dying bubble that would have collapsed into a singularity within two years… Who knew it would prove so useful in the end!”
“This is a gift from the universe!”
“Alright! The nuclear missile is handled, and those organization bastards have fled. We need to hurry and rescue Director Qiu and Long Jin!”
However, things were never so simple.
To handle the nuclear missile and ensure no inch of Hualan’s land suffered radioactive contamination, Atavists from Yunjin Prefecture and neighboring regions—including Xiang Prefecture—had poured out every last drop of their Atavist power. In the face of a national crisis, no one had held anything back.
As a result, every single one of them was utterly exhausted. Recovery would take at least a day, making an immediate rescue mission into the Ice Age Realm impossible.
Harsh nature was a far deadly foe than any man-made nuclear weapon. Anyone who underestimated it would pay with their life.
Hearing this, Lou Ting nearly spread his wings to charge into the portal himself, but Lou Ningzhou stopped him.
“Think clearly! Why hasn’t the portal to the Ice Age Realm been closed yet? It’s because the organization is terrified you’ll carry out judgment city by city until every last one of their people is dead! If you go in there, you’ll be doing them a massive favor—they’ll close that portal behind you before you can even blink!” Lou Ningzhou stood on the chain beside him, her voice cold and sharp.
Lou Ting possessed a sharp mind and understood the logic instantly. Yet he felt an overwhelming surge of rage and frustration, helpless and bitter. The person he cared about most was right beyond that spatial rift, yet he had to stand outside, unable to do a thing.
“Rest assured. Now that the nuclear threat is resolved, Atavists from more distant prefectures are already heading toward Xiang Prefecture. A powerful rescue team will be assembled within a few hours. All we can do right now is wait.”
Jiang Qing’s expression grew grim. He understood now—Long Jin had never planned to destroy the organization’s headquarters in one strike. Her real goal was much simpler: to eliminate the organization’s last and most important sleeper agents.
The biggest prize was the President’s Chief of Staff—a trump card the organization had spent years and countless resources developing. They had planned to use him at the right moment to take control of Hualan’s leadership.
A wave of dizziness washed over him as past events flashed through his mind. When had her plan truly begun? When he posted the video exposing her as the Information Broker? Or during that phone call on his way back to headquarters? No, no! Even earlier—much earlier!! Back when he was still Wu Ying’s younger brother, Jiang Qing, she had already been calculating this exact step!
She had locked onto him from the very beginning. He was like a prey animal caught in a web without even knowing it. No matter how he struggled or believed he had escaped, he was merely running deeper into the trap she had designed.
“Tell me, Jiang Qing… how do you know everything you’ve orchestrated isn’t just another piece in my grand plan?”
Her words echoed in his mind again. Jiang Qing’s body trembled. It felt as if a cocoon were forming inside his heart, with something inside it pulsing and fighting to break free. A deep instinct told him to stop it at any cost.
Slap!
Out of nowhere, a heavy palm struck Jiang Qing across the face, sending him tumbling to the floor.
“Jiang Qing! Look at what your ‘brilliant plan’ accomplished!”
It was Mr. Fei, who had recovered a fraction of his strength. He looked disheveled and enraged, the refined aura he usually maintained behind his mask completely gone, replaced by raw ferocity.
“You nearly destroyed the entire organization!” Unable to contain his rage, Mr. Fei kicked Jiang Qing repeatedly after striking him. Cold sweat poured down Jiang Qing’s face as he curled into a ball, groaning from the pain.
“Do you have any idea how important that card was to us?! For centuries, Hualan’s technology—blessed like the Cyborgs—has advanced relentlessly unlike other nations, posing the single greatest threat to our organization! That’s why we planted such a high-level spy to eliminate that threat! And now? That card is completely ruined! All because of you!”
Mr. Fei paced furiously around Jiang Qing, cursing and panting. He shoved his mask up slightly, revealing pale, trembling lips.
He had nearly died, his life’s work had almost been ruined, and their most valuable asset was gone—not used in the final decisive moment of their grand cause, but squandered on a foolish personal vendetta. Mr. Fei’s fury was boundless.
The other executives harbored similar resentment, watching silently without intervening.
Jiang Qing remained curled on the floor, blood trickling from his mouth. As an Atavist, Mr. Fei’s enraged kicks had broken several of his ribs and damaged his internal organs.
Long before he ignored the organization’s interests to execute this revenge scheme against Jing Pei, Jiang Qing had anticipated Mr. Fei’s rage.
He had always known that revenge exacted a price—one had to abandon conscience or surrender their soul. Nothing in this world came without a cost. How could such a easy bargain exist? What he hadn’t anticipated was how ruthless Jing Pei could be—in her own trolley problem, she was willing to sacrifice herself.
Jiang Qing clenched his fists tightly. Opening his eyes, he knew he had to do something to stop whatever was hatching inside that cocoon. It wasn’t over yet; it wasn’t time to give up! He hadn’t completely lost to her!
“Mr. Fei… cough… now isn’t the time to vent your anger,” Jiang Qing rasped, pushing himself up with trembling arms. He coughed up a mouthful of blood, but his eyes held no fear as he looked at Mr. Fei—only cold composure.
Meeting his gaze, Mr. Fei felt his emotions shift. He glared at Jiang Qing, took two deep breaths, and held back from hitting him again.
“What? Even now, what could you possibly do?”
Jiang Qing looked toward the monitor, his gaze deep and chilling, carrying a desperate resolve. “Right now, we must compete with them for one last thing. It’s the final move we have left. If we succeed, we won’t walk away empty-handed.”
Xiang Prefecture. Inside the vast underground drainage intersection.
“This will definitely work! These are top-tier aerospace materials—do you know how cold deep space gets? Around minus two hundred and seventy-three degrees Celsius! If it can withstand that, it can handle this!” Armed police officers held equipment sent by the Aerospace Institute, feeling immensely relieved.
A pile of ruined junk sat at their feet—all their previous failed attempts. Most items had broken the instant they entered the portal. Even their phones and computers had shut down due to the extreme cold.
Even wrapped in high-tech heated jackets, their teeth chattered from the ambient chill. Any cockroaches or rats in the drain that hadn’t escaped in time had already frozen solid.
Shortly after sending the aerospace-grade loudspeaker and signal transmitter through the portal, the first wave of Atavist rescuers arrived.
Donning thick down coats, they leaped into the spatial rift one after another. The armed police rubbed their hands together in excitement. “This is it! Director Qiu and Miss Long will definitely be rescued soon!”
Everyone shared that belief—including Feng Yilian and the others back in Yunjin Prefecture, whose Atavist power had been completely drained. When they learned who made up the rescue team, they let out a collective sigh of relief. Every member was a top-tier fighter, delayed only by the distance from their home prefectures.
“Good grief… I prepared myself, but it’s still bloody freezing!”
“Damn, my brain feels like it’s freezing over! Anyone got a spare hat?!”
“I had one, but I’m wearing it now! Hurry back and borrow one before you go too far!”
“Fine, fine!”
Gazing at the world of howling wind and blinding snow, the Atavists couldn’t help feeling a heavy pressure—as if nature itself were an apex predator resting on the frozen earth, its breath capable of sweeping people away and taking their lives at any moment. The cold, majestic severity forced everyone to adopt a solemn expression.
Minus one hundred and fifty degrees Celsius was a temperature no one had ever experienced in daily life. Only by standing within it could one comprehend how terrifying it truly was.
“No time to waste! Move according to plan and search in all four directions. Keep transmitting signals along the way. We must let Director Qiu and Long Jin know we’re here to save them!”
The rescue team split into four groups, heading north, south, east, and west to begin their search.
The entire nation watched with bated breath, awaiting good news.
Yet, contrary to everyone’s expectations, no good news arrived—not by evening, not the following morning, nor by noon, nor as the sun dipped below the horizon once more.
“What’s going on?! Is the Ice Age Realm really that vast?! Even if it’s the size of Earth, with our Atavists’ strength and Director Qiu’s capabilities, it shouldn’t be impossible to locate them!”
When a frost-covered Atavist returned to report the lack of progress, no one could understand the situation.
“Could the organization be playing tricks again?!”
“Where would they get the nerve?! If they had the guts, they would’ve closed the portal long ago!”
“Exactly! Lou Ting is still watching outside!”
“There’s only one explanation left,” someone said grimly. Pain flashed through everyone’s eyes as realization struck.
The only remaining possibility was that Qiu Fa and Jing Pei were already dead, buried beneath the snow. Otherwise, why would there be absolute silence, with no response to any of the rescue signals?
This grim conclusion crossed many minds, spreading rapidly from Xiang Prefecture across the nation. Having monitored the nuclear crisis, the public shifted its focus back to the fate of Qiu Fa and Jing Pei. The government made no effort to suppress the news, using it to divert attention away from the nuclear panic and anti-neighboring-nation outrage.
Yet, the outcome felt equally devastating.
Qiu Fa is dead?? Our national guardian is gone?? Ahhhh I’m panicking! Without Director Qiu, can we really survive terrorism, Lou Ting, and nuclear threats?? Look at what happened when the neighboring country lost their strongest fighter—their government collapsed into chaos and spies took over! With both Qiu Fa and Long Jin gone, who can we rely on?? No, please no, I’m terrified…
Having just endured extreme panic, the public desperately needed a pillar of stability. Instead, they received news that Qiu Fa and Jing Pei were almost certainly dead. Fear swept across the entire nation.
It wasn’t just netizens—even Feng Yilian and his companions turned pale, barely able to stand.
“Impossible! Absolutely impossible! They must still be alive! sob…” Tang Qiaoqiao burst into tears.
Inside Nevergone District.
Chu Xusheng bent over, covering his face. After a long moment, he straightened up, his eyes bloodshot as he looked at Min Yue. “Has the final moment arrived?”
Min Yue sat on her bedroom sofa, gripping her knife tightly. Her eyes remained glued to the wall clock as she shook her head. “Not yet. Wait a little longer.”
Inside the mobile spacetime bubble.
Everyone in the organization was monitoring the Ice Age Realm rescue efforts. Most low-level members believed Jing Pei and Qiu Fa were dead, just like the outside world did.
“They’re definitely dead. With Qiu Fa’s abilities, if he were alive, he would’ve signaled the rescuers long ago.”
“Long Jin is even less likely to survive. She was covered in injuries when she fell in, infected with viruses. By now, she’s frozen solid.”
Unlike the clueless lower ranks, the organization’s executives knew precisely what was happening.
“Right now, we must compete with them for one last thing. It’s the final move we have left. If we succeed, we won’t walk away empty-handed,” Jiang Qing had declared back then.
“What thing?” Mr. Fei had asked.
“Time.”
Everyone had stared at him in confusion.
Jiang Qing had pulled himself up using a chair, wiping blood from his chin. “Don’t forget how massive the Ice Age Realm is. We intentionally opened the current portal at the farthest point from where Qiu Fa and Long Jin entered. In a world like that, even if an entrance is open, without outside help, Qiu Fa and Long Jin can’t possibly find it on their own.”
They had no idea where the exit was, like desperate wanderers lost in a desert looking for water.
“Hualan will send people in to save them immediately!” the executives had argued, feeling it unlikely that Qiu Fa would freeze to death so quickly. The thought of failing after losing so much made everyone bitter.
“That’s why our job is to prevent them from finding Qiu Fa and Long Jin,” Jiang Qing had explained. “Without us lifting a finger, both of them will freeze to death in the Ice Age Realm.” He was convinced Jing Pei was still alive, and dragging things out was the key to killing her.
“What? You want us to send people in to block the rescuers? Setting aside whether we have the manpower, if news leaks to Lou Ting, we’re finished!” an executive had shrieked.
Jiang Qing had offered a cold glare, causing the executive to shut his mouth and step back.
Looking at Mr. Fei, Jiang Qing had said, “Mr. Fei surely doesn’t believe that as long as we obey Lou Ting, his threat to us disappears.”
Mr. Fei’s expression had turned grave. That went without saying—Lou Ting was their enemy now and would remain so in the future.
“If we don’t block them now, our future enemies will be Qiu Fa, Long Jin, and Lou Ting. If we succeed, our only enemy will be Lou Ting.”
Mr. Fei had asked, “State your plan directly.”
“It’s simple. We use our headquarters’ membrane-breaking machine to open another portal to the Ice Age Realm right next to the one in Xiang Prefecture. Before Hualan’s Atavists enter, our people will go in with a machine, open a portal to a different frozen realm, and overlap the two spatial rifts. Hualan’s rescuers will think they’re searching the Ice Age Realm, when in fact they’ll be exploring an entirely different world. No matter how thoroughly they search, they’ll never find those two.”
The plan had instantly lit up everyone’s eyes, offering a ray of hope in a desperate situation.
Mr. Fei’s rage toward Jiang Qing had softened slightly. Jiang Qing remained useful—his mind was sharper than anyone else’s, tenacious and unyielding to the very end.
Sure enough, the plan succeeded flawlessly. Up until this evening, Hualan hadn’t noticed a single anomaly.
Jiang Qing’s injuries had been treated using the finest medicine and healing machines. He sat in the conference room alongside the executives, awaiting the final outcome.
The conclusion would arrive around ten o’clock tonight, when the energy supporting Xiang Prefecture’s three membrane-breaking machines ran out. Without energy, the portal would gradually close, forcing all rescuers to evacuate. That would mark the definitive end of the rescue effort.
Jing Pei and Qiu Fa’s deaths would be set in stone.
Long Jin, I haven’t lost yet.
Jiang Qing stared intently at the live stream from Xiang Prefecture on the main screen.
[If you don’t control Min Yue, you can’t win! Control her! Control her! Control her!]
An urgent voice echoed in his mind once again.
Jiang Qing’s eyes narrowed as his fists clenched. But a moment later, he relaxed his grip, acting as if nothing had happened.
That voice had appeared in his mind the moment he proposed his delay tactic, sounding eager and frantic.
Min Yue… Long Jin’s friend from Nevergone District? She’s just a normal human without a single Atavist cell. What power could she possibly possess to influence the outcome of my duel with Long Jin?
[Control her quickly! Control her and you win!]
The voice urged again.
Jiang Qing stared at a spot on the table, tapping his fingers against the armrest.
Amid howling winds and raging snow, the arduous search continued. Wrapped tightly in gear, even sky-type Atavists couldn’t spread their wings in such extreme cold. They rode snowmobiles hastily modified by scientists from lunar rovers, broadcasting low-frequency acoustic signals to reach far into the distance. Though the signals triggered several avalanches, they yielded no results. The searchers were losing hope.
If Qiu Fa were still alive after all this time, he would have responded.
They had no idea that the world they were exploring wasn’t the true Ice Age Realm.
Inside the real Ice Age Realm, only the howling blizzard broke the vast, desolate silence.
The massive, majestic White Tiger appeared tiny amidst the endless expanse of white.
He trudged forward on four legs against the freezing wind, leaving deep tiger-print tracks in the snow that were swiftly buried and erased by the blizzard.
Thick frost clung to his fur, intermingled with striking patches of dark red blood that covered his body.
The dangers of this frozen hell extended beyond the extreme temperatures—countless hidden traps lurked beneath the pristine snow.
One tiger paw stepped onto an innocent-looking patch of white, finding no solid ground beneath.
Crack!
A sharp snapping sound echoed under the snow. The ground around Qiu Fa collapsed instantly, sending him plunging into the void.
In this realm of ice, nature’s handiwork birthed breathtaking wonders as well as deadly traps.
This was a deep chasm, its top concealed by a thin layer of ice and snow that blended seamlessly with the surrounding flatland. Jagged ice spires lined the bottom and walls like the gaping maw of a monster, bristling with razor-sharp teeth eager to pierce flesh and drink blood.
Ice spires along the wall aimed directly at the tiger’s soft underbelly. Yet the moment they touched, Qiu Fa’s surging Atavist power shattered most of them to pieces. Still, a few ancient, impossibly hard spires remained intact, slicing through his skin and drawing fresh blood.
His razor-sharp claws dug deep into the icy walls, carving narrow grooves as he fell, but doing little to slow his momentum. The giant tiger hurtled toward the lethal spires at the bottom.
BOOM!
All four paws slammed into the ice wall, arresting his fall.
Rock-hard ice spires sat inches away, one nearly piercing his left eye.
The tiger’s chest heaved violently as he panted for air.
Qiu Fa had encountered numerous natural traps along his journey—treacherous, unique to this realm, and leaving him battered and bruised.
A few hours earlier, he had stepped onto an icy surface that concealed an unfathomably cold body of water.
By logic, temperatures this low should have frozen any body of water solid, creating ice layers miles thick. Yet this water held only a thin sheet of ice—deep, crystal-clear, and far colder than the air above. The moment Qiu Fa’s paw broke through, a bone-chilling cold invaded his leg, nearly freezing it solid on the spot.
That injury was the sole reason he hadn’t dodged this chasm in time.
The commotion woke Jing Pei from her slumber.
“What happened?” she asked nervously.
Qiu Fa stabilized his breathing, pulling his head back from the spire that had nearly impaled his eye. “Just a minor bump.”
“Liar. Are you hurt?” Jing Pei listened to his heartbeat. Having stayed inside his chest for so long, she could distinguish its various rhythms.
Her own heart synchronized with his, as if sharing the same pain and enduring the same perilous trials.
“Just a scratch. My wilderness survival skills are top-notch, and my sense of direction is precise. Don’t worry yourself,” Qiu Fa said softly as he landed on the ground. His frozen left front leg felt numb and swollen; the impact had likely fractured the bone. Blood trickled from beneath his eye, yet his voice remained calm, as if it truly were nothing.
Qiu Fa refused to let Jing Pei come out, even melting snow and delivering water wrapped in Atavist power. He had reopened the wound on his chest multiple times for her, leaving her unaware of the full extent of his injuries and lacking the energy to think about it.
Her own wounds were too severe. Tang Woxue’s medicine eased the pain a little, but she had lost a huge amount of blood, and the bullets still lodged in her body kept releasing viruses that tore through her organs. If Qiu Fa hadn’t held her close against his heart, she would have died long ago in the Ice Age Realm.
“Don’t get too hurt, Qiu Fa. It’s okay if we don’t find the exit on time,” Jing Pei said softly, her heart aching for him.
“Mm. Go back to sleep. I need to keep moving and save my breath,” Qiu Fa replied, hearing the exhaustion in her voice.
“Won’t you get lonely?” Jing Pei asked, fighting off sleep. Her drowsiness wasn’t true tiredness, but her body’s survival mechanism—demanding she conserve energy while battling the virus and blood loss.
“No. I know you’re here.” With the woman he loved tucked inside his chest, how could he feel lonely?
“Thank you for being here too,” Jing Pei whispered, resting against his warm heart as her heavy eyelids closed.
Once her breathing evened out and he felt her sink into deep sleep, Qiu Fa found a sheltered spot, tucking his paws in to rest.
He didn’t dare rest for long—less than five minutes later, he pushed himself back up. First, he had to climb out of this chasm. He glanced at his damaged left front leg, ignoring the pain as he approached the icy wall.
Shortly after they fell into this world, Jing Pei had told him: “Jiang Qing will eventually be forced to reopen the portal, but he won’t want us to leave. He’ll open it at the farthest, most hidden corner from where we entered. To reach it, we’ll have to travel a very long way.”
“Qiu Fa, can you find the exit before nine o’clock tomorrow night?” she had asked.
“I’ll do my best,” he had promised.
Carrying his beloved inside his chest, Qiu Fa had trudged forward through the snow, running and resting by turns.
At first, his pace had been swift. When luck favored him with a tailwind, he rode the gales. But as time wore on, the White Tiger’s fur struggled against the extreme cold. Maintaining the layer of Atavist power to shield Jing Pei meant a continuous drain on his energy, compounded by the constant traps and injuries. With no food and enduring hunger and cold, his speed gradually slowed.
He didn’t know how vast this world was or how long it would take to reach the far side, but if Jing Pei wished to reach the exit before nine o’clock tomorrow night, he would give everything he had. She remained inside his chest; if he died along the way, she could survive a little longer after emerging. The closer he got to the exit, the higher her chances of survival would be.
Currently, nearly one-third of the journey remained. Blocking that path were sky-piercing ice mountains, thousand-meter-deep ocean trenches, and countless deadly traps—with zero support.
In their home world, the time was eight o’clock in the evening. Only one hour remained before nine o’clock.
“One hour left until the final moment,” Min Yue whispered in Nevergone District, her hand holding the knife moving involuntarily closer to her throat. “Nine o’clock.”
