Jiang Miao looked at Qin Shaofeng, who was struggling to hold on, her expression indescribably ugly.
Although her consciousness had been muddled during that period, she clearly knew everything she had seen and experienced.
In this starry expanse, without a method like Qin Shaofeng's—one that seemed like enslavement but was actually the simplest way to help—she likely would have found it truly difficult to survive.
Even though she understood that perfectly well.
Whenever she thought of how she had actually become Qin Shaofeng's Sunken Slave, the sort of person she had once disdained most, she felt something beyond words.
What should I do?
What should I do now?
Jiang Miao's mind was in utter chaos, yet she felt her consciousness was exceptionally clear, even carrying an unspeakable calm.
That calm came precisely from Qin Shaofeng.
Just as Xi Nu and the others' venomous tongues, along with their rhythm of courting death at every moment, all came from Twelve Meals.
Only after a long while did she finally force herself to accept this fact.
When she looked toward Qin Shaofeng again, she discovered that a strange radiance was flickering over his body.
That radiance seemed to be helping him purify that mad aura.
More than half a day passed.
Only then did the madness emanating from Qin Shaofeng completely dissipate. When he reopened his eyes, Jiang Miao's first sensation was submission that arose from the depths of her soul.
It was as though she instinctively wanted to worship him.
Jiang Miao was, after all, proud and arrogant. Since Qin Shaofeng had never made any demands of her, she could barely stand facing him.
"How are you? Have you dealt with that mad feeling?"
Jiang Miao asked instinctively, immediately feeling that her words seemed somewhat weak and powerless.
Qin Shaofeng felt it