Yang Yong's heart jolted, and he immediately understood.
"Someone from above?"
The Heavenly Court?
The immortal realm?
But.
After the apocalypse broke out.
Heaven and earth had been cut off from each other.
Contact with the Heavenly Court and the Underworld had long since been lost.
Spiritual energy had dried up, and immortals and gods no longer manifested?
How could someone from "above" still descend?
Something was very wrong here!
Yang Yong was about to press further and get to the bottom of it.
But Mang Dabiao shook his head repeatedly, his expression reverent.
"Don't ask. It can't be spoken of. Saying it would do neither of us any good."
Yang Yong was speechless, inwardly cursing him for speaking in riddles.
But since Mang Dabiao was certain through his innate perception.
That the old Taoist priest was not an Eerie and bore no ill intent.
And had personally promised that this place was safe, free from Eerie incursions.
Yang Yong, Wang Ying, and Zheng Xiaofeng quickly exchanged glances and made their decision:
They would stay for now, rest for a night, then decide what to do next.
After an entire night of racing to break through.
Everyone was utterly exhausted.
The vehicles needed inspecting, supplies needed counting, and the wounded needed care.
They really did need somewhere safe to rest and regroup.
Soon.
The convoy manager Lao Zhang, his assistant Xiao Ma, and the others got moving.
Pitching tents, lighting fires, cooking, and inspecting vehicles, everyone worked at their assigned tasks in an orderly fashion.
Cao Xianming was carefully carried out of the vehicle and settled in the safest tent, with someone assigned to care for him;
The Shamanism girl who had remained dazed and vacant was also helped off the bus.
She sat in the clearing, her eyes empty,