The sun was about to set.
Zhang Yang gazed at the great fireball, his expression neither sad nor happy.
They were already more than fifty li from the battlefield and far from the road, so there was no need to worry about being discovered.
Tonks's injuries were already improving, but his spirits were very low. Zhang Yang did not know whether it was because his uncle had died in battle or because he had become a deserter.
Zhang Yang was not worried about any of that. He was thinking about something else. Today's fairly eventful experience had taught him a great deal, and for the first time in all these days, he had thoroughly and fully reflected on himself and what he should do from now on.
Obviously, he would not be able to contact his main body for a long time to come. It was both an interesting and frightening prospect.
Before this, as a secondary body, he had always been able to communicate and share resources with his main body, so he had never considered himself an independent entity. He had merely been an extension of the main body—a hand stretching infinitely far.
But if they went a long time without communicating or sharing information, he was a little worried. Not worried about his main body, but worried that as he grew stronger through different experiences, he would eventually become incompatible with it.
He would no longer be himself. Thinking about it carefully, what a terrifying prospect that was.
Zhang Yang felt that he had developed a devil in his heart, and until he could communicate with his main body face-to-face, it would be impossible to cut it down.
"Friend, I still don't know what your name is."
Tonks's voice rang out. He seemed to have recovered his