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Since Feng Jiu had fallen silent, Li Yanchu was concerned. He moved to her side, looping one arm securely around her waist. The rope, now bearing the weight of a grown man and a young girl, remained as sturdy as ever.
With Li Yanchu’s mastery of qinggong, even the extra heft of the wolf-tooth club added no burden. He could walk without leaving traces in the snow, as his control over his own weight was that precise.
Feng Jiu’s cheeks flushed red, though she didn’t resist. With one hand gripping the rope and the other holding Feng Jiu close, Li Yanchu continued his rapid descent.
The rift’s depths were pitch black, almost entirely devoid of light, a darkness that could make anyone’s heart quail. It felt as though, at any moment, a cold, lifeless face might suddenly hang down before them.
Li Yanchu didn’t reveal his presence, instead continuing to use the Sun Veil to block the threads of fate....
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