In the darkness, Yu Ci suddenly woke from a deep sleep. Dew had soaked his hair, trickling coldly down along his brow bone. When he opened his eyes, the shadow of the rock behind him enveloped him, blocking the mountain wind. Beyond the shadow lay dense fog.
The heavy fog had persisted for some time and covered a vast area, but the wind had risen now, so it was surely at the end of its tether. He was currently atop some mountain peak, though its precise location was difficult to determine. These past days of sleeping in the open and eating whatever he could find, combined with this great fog, had ruined every scrap of his geographical awareness save his sense of direction. He only knew that he should head west. Anything more would have to wait until he saw some distinctive mountains or rivers.
He rubbed his chin and found it prickly. His clothes were filthy as well. Never mind how bedraggled he looked—there was truly not a single part of his body that felt well.
That day, following the Shadow Ghost's advice, he had hidden a thousand zhang underground. Yet he had still failed to escape Fang Hui's great divine ability. Blood-red light had penetrated down and shone upon him, after which every bone and muscle in his body had begun to ache.
Severing channels and breaking veins? Splitting sinews and dislocating bones? Ten thousand ants gnawing at the heart? None of those legendary descriptions truly fit. Yu Ci felt as if every bone in his body had been smashed to pieces and pieced back together, every muscle torn apart and glued back in place, every trace of his vitality boiled until it roiled and then cooled down again—over and over.
What hurt even more was that it