The jade bottle trembled in Bai Zhi's palm, its medicinal liquid swirling in reverse like a living thing. Before she could think further, she turned her sword and sliced open her palm. Blood dripped through her fingers, sealing the ring of dark patterns around the bottle's mouth exactly. A bone-piercing chill raced up her arm. Gritting her teeth to suppress her trembling, she tucked the medicine bottle tightly against her chest.
Mo Feng had already rushed ahead. Both palms pressed to the ground, he sent moisture spreading out from the earth, condensing into a thin wall amid the shattered bricks and stones. A stone beam overhead broke apart with a thunderous crash and smashed into the water wall, kicking up a vast cloud of mist, only for a second wave of falling rocks to punch through it. He let out a low roar and drew up more true qi. The flow of water instantly thickened, forcibly holding up the half-collapsed passage.
"Go!" he shouted back, his voice hoarse.
Bai Zhi did not answer. She pushed off with her feet, shooting forward like an arrow. Sword light opened the way before her, severing dangling iron chains and the trap blades that thrust out at her. She raced onward, hearing nothing but her own ragged breathing and the unceasing sounds of collapse behind her. There was only one image in her mind—Chen Wuya leaning against a broken stone, his fingers tracing wavy lines across the ground, his fingertips twitching, his gaze unfocused.
She could not let him die here.
The corridor shook violently. A massive boulder slid from the side wall, bearing down on Mo Feng's back. By the time he sensed it, it was too late to dodge; he could only turn sideways and take the blow head-on. The rock struck