Yuan Liu lectured him as he stood up and brushed the grass off his backside.
Su Yichen recalled everything that had happened last night.
When he had groggily awoken from unconsciousness, he found himself lying on a bed of dead leaves in the forest.
It had already grown dark. Before he could figure out how he had ended up there, a wolf's howl made him shudder in fright. He leaped to his feet and ran blindly.
The forest was dim, and everything around him was pitch-black. It was as if every patch of grass concealed a beast that devoured people. He was scared half to death.
If he hadn't kept telling himself that he couldn't pass out—if he did, he would be bitten to death—he might have already fainted dead away.
He ran blindly, yet no matter what, he couldn't get out of the mountains. It was as if he had been plunged into a range of mountains stretching for hundreds of miles. He couldn't tell which way he was facing or which direction led out.
After finally finding what he thought was a relatively safe place to hide, he soon heard movement and was so startled that he could only flee again.
At the time, he had been exhausted, hungry, and thirsty. But more than anything else, he had been afraid—terrified.
He had cried out to Heaven and Earth, but neither had answered. He had cried and even wailed in despair, but in the end, he had submitted to cruel reality.
Gritting his teeth, he shouted in his heart that he had to survive, that he had to make it out of these mountains that seemed like a maze.
He longed for morning to come, longed for the sun to appear, and even more desperately longed to walk out