Yang Qing and his companions had already been delayed in Xiangyang City for three full days.
Over those three days, they recalled again and again the scene of Qin Yue bringing them to that crossroads in the dead of night and opening the passage into the secret realm.
But no matter how they reconstructed it, they found that the means currently at their disposal were nowhere near enough to enter the secret realm.
In the past, Yang Qing would never have lingered too long over any one matter or in any one place.
If things did not work out here, he would simply go somewhere else.
But now, unless they dealt with the Heavenly Stone of prophecy in the Resting Place, Yang Qing and his companions could go nowhere.
If they failed to resolve this problem, never mind going elsewhere—they might soon never see tomorrow's blazing sun.
"Life in this world is spent amid such helplessness."
Yang Qing sighed softly, but his tone soon shifted. "If retreat is impossible, we can only fight our way to survival."
Yet when Yang Qing thought of Qin Yue, another wave of sorrow washed over him.
Along his journey, how many people had died protecting him?
If such devotion could be measured, Yang Qing believed it would long since have become towering mountains.
Their devotion was higher than the heavens and deeper than the sea. He could never repay it in his lifetime.
The only thing he could do was cherish his life.
Only by living could he do more for those who had gone before him.
Yang Qing and his companions still rented the same small courtyard as before. After several days of fruitless attempts, they stopped trying.
Though their hearts felt as if they were being scorched by fire, the obstacle before