When Fatty Xin woke up, the moon was hanging high in the sky.
He was also the last of them all to open his eyes.
A crucible sat before Xiao Xiao, where he was brewing a potion. Orange-red flames burned beneath the pot, while orange-yellow medicine simmered within. A faint red glow shrouded the crucible, making anyone who looked at it feel warm all over.
Jiang Yu sat off to one side with Zhu Si in her arms, whispering softly into the Little Witch's ear. Zheng Qing held his talisman gun, his gaze shifting between the clouds overhead and Nikita. The banshee hugged her head as she leaned against a large boulder, looking utterly listless, as though she had completely given up struggling.
A rumbling sound came from afar, like thunder.
A moment later, the thunder ceased. A pitch-black figure rounded a cliff ahead and entered Fatty Xin's field of vision.
It was Zhang Jixin.
Steam rose from all over his body, his face had turned a dark reddish purple, his robe was smeared with slushy snow, and a faint trace of blood showed through his gloves.
"A stray wild dog. I already chased it off." The Red-faced Male Wizard gave his teammates a casual report, then glanced at the fat man who had just climbed to his feet. "Oh, you're awake? I thought you'd sleep until dawn."
Fatty Xin raised his head and looked at the bright moon.
"I once heard something in the editorial office," he muttered, shaking his still-dizzy head. "All history happens at night... As a qualified reporter, I won't miss a moment of witnessing history."
"Then you ought to exercise more," Zhang Jixin said mockingly as he brushed the slushy snow from his clothes. "I told you long ago, you're soft and fat. You'll suffer