Otherwise, the Yellow Springs Dew billowing below would corrode his soul, and he would ultimately become a mindless monster.
But Ye Xuan had cut off every last shred of his hope. Xiao Wu's Soft Bone Kick was powerful, while Meng Yiran's attacks were utterly merciless. Over the past half month, Tang San had been kicked down more than a hundred times, yet he had never given up.
Worthy indeed of being the child of destiny.
Ye Xuan looked at the newly carved half-meter-wide platform on the cliff face, a hint of amusement flashing through his eyes.
Tang San had actually forced his way through solid rock with nothing but the Mysterious Jade Hand, carving out a place for himself.
Even though he had to endure the pain of being kicked down every time he climbed up, even though he remained in the dangerous area shrouded in Yellow Springs Dew, he still tenaciously clung to life.
Ye Xuan, on the other hand, lived an exceptionally comfortable life. His Soul Tool held an ample supply of delicious food and fresh water.
Whenever he was bored, he would fool around with Xiao Wu, or hold Meng Yiran in his arms and enjoy a moment of tenderness.
The intimate atmosphere inside the tent stood in stark contrast to the desperate howls from beneath the cliff. Every burst of laughter was the cruelest torment for Tang San.
Meanwhile, Tang San's condition on the small cliffside platform had long since reached its limit.
His body was covered in blood and dust, his clothes tattered beyond recognition. His hands were a mangled mess from chiseling stone for so long, his nails curled and torn away, exposing stark white bone.
The frigid aura of the Yellow Springs Dew continuously eroded his soul, leaving his head splitting with pain,