Before they could make out the newcomer’s face, a series of aged and weak coughs reached them.
Yan Tuo’s heart stirred as he recalled someone.
Li Yueying.
The Li Yueying who should have stayed with Lin Xirou, yet had mysteriously disappeared midway, fleeing on her own?
As the person emerged, it was her.
Yan Tuo felt somewhat emotional: Lin Xirou’s group must have been completely wiped out, yet this scheming one had survived until now. Whether natural disasters or human calamities, there were always lucky ones—though the criteria for such luck remained unclear.
Yu Rong hadn’t recognized her, having only seen Li Yueying’s photo once and never met in person, so she had no impression.
Yan Tuo reminded her: “A Ground Xiao, one who was with Lin Xirou.”
Damn, a Ground Xiao!
Yu Rong’s whole body tensed, and she tried to stand, but her legs gave way. She swayed and managed to steady herself in a half-kneeling position.
She had truly run out of strength. Yu Rong gritted her teeth, watching warily as Li Yueying approached.
Li Yueying had been lucky. She had fled in the darkness during Nie Jiuluo and Lin Xirou’s fight. Being alone and a small target, she had found a corner to hide in and somehow remained undiscovered. She had endured until things calmed down, originally planning to leave Green Soil quickly, but having not returned for many years, she wasn’t very familiar with the routes. After circling for two days, she was drawn here by the commotion.
Not bad—these two before her had flesh on their bones but were too hungry to fight.
Li Yueying licked her lips; she was hungry too.
Yu Rong’s heart jumped—having dealt with wild beasts extensively, she had natural alertness to such gestures.
Yan Tuo gave a bitter laugh: “If I’d known I’d be feeding her, I’d rather have fed you.”
Was this their worst fear coming true? Yu Rong could hardly believe it: “Aren’t her kind supposed to avoid eating other food?”
She didn’t know that Li Yueying had lost her blood sac—being picky about food no longer mattered.
Yan Tuo wasn’t sure either: “Maybe she’s crazy with hunger. Even Dog Tooth ate other food back then.”
Dog Tooth had done so with Lin Xirou enforcing rules. Li Yueying now had no constraints.
Li Yueying wasn’t familiar with either of them and didn’t bother with greetings. She purely examined them as prey: the man looked nearly dead and harmless, and the woman seemed to still have some fight left—better deal with her first. Once the woman was handled, dinner could begin.
Yan Tuo lowered his voice: “Can you still run? Or let her come closer—I’ll try to hold her down somehow, buy you some time. Run as far as you can.”
He’d already said his last words; he didn’t care how he died. If he could be of some use, that would be good enough—his bones and flesh wouldn’t go to waste.
Yu Rong remained silent. She felt she shouldn’t consider it, but couldn’t help weighing the possibility.
It could work—she knew wild beasts. Generally, after eating their fill, they would be lazy for a while, not even bothering to chase prey passing nearby. Given Li Yueying’s size, one person would be enough to satisfy her. If truly entangled by Yan Tuo, she might not bother chasing.
But was this the right thing to do…
As she pondered, Li Yueying had already bent down, hands becoming claws, arms bracing against the ground, back arching high—though human in appearance and having lived as one for many years, she could instantly revert to a beast’s stance without any disconnect.
Then, her feet pushed off, launching straight at them.
Yu Rong’s scalp tingled. This woman looked old and sickly, but in action, she carried a fierce, vicious energy. Usually, Yu Rong wouldn’t fear trading blows with her, but now…
She conserved her strength until Li Yueying was right upon her, then suddenly dodged sideways.
Li Yueying, in full momentum, didn’t care about missing. She twisted like an ape and clawed at Yu Rong’s face, completely ignoring Yan Tuo lying nearby as if he were already dead.
Having lain there so long, Yan Tuo had recovered some strength. He watched Li Yueying’s position, gritted his teeth, and lunged up, intending to tackle her. However, he had overestimated his current ability—his body gave out halfway up.
He could only do what he could. Abandoning his original plan, Yan Tuo grabbed Li Yueying’s legs.
With his current strength, he couldn’t pull Li Yueying back, only adding his body weight to create more obstacles.
Anyone suddenly weighted down by an adult man would be unsettled. Li Yueying stumbled, flew into a rage, and turned to claw at Yan Tuo.
Yu Rong knew Yan Tuo was creating an opportunity for her.
Opportunities once lost never return—she almost broke into a sprint, but suddenly a thought flashed through her mind: Am I going to leave like this?
If she left now, she might save her life, but could she sleep peacefully for the rest of her days?
Yu Rong steeled herself, shouted, and turned back with a slashing attack. Li Yueying seemed to have eyes in the back of her head—her right shoulder dipped, completely avoiding the blade. Yu Rong, having used all her strength and unable to check her momentum, tripped over Yan Tuo’s body and fell hard.
Before she could get up, she felt intense pain in her neck—Li Yueying had rushed over and sunk her claws into Yu Rong’s nape, lifting her upper body.
Was she wounded?
Yu Rong’s heart sank. In their current situation, being clawed was like losing half your life—Sun Zhou was a prime example.
Enraged, she thought that if she died, she’d make the other bleed heavily too. She clawed back at Li Yueying’s face, but Li Yueying’s reactions were lightning-fast. She suddenly released her grip—Yu Rong had been relying on Li Yueying’s hold for balance, so when let go, she fell and her counter-attack missed.
But it wasn’t over. After releasing, Li Yueying followed through with another downward claw, aiming for Yu Rong’s eyes—from the look of it, she meant to blind at least one if not both.
Yu Rong’s eyes bulged with fury. Seeing Li Yueying’s savage face, she only regretted not having the strength to tear her apart.
At that moment, there was a whoosh, and Li Yueying’s head jerked sharply to one side, suddenly freezing.
A gleaming stainless steel arrow had pierced the air, incredibly sharp, entering Li Yueying’s left temple and exiting her right, crossing through her forehead as if she had grown horns or wings on both sides.
Yu Rong stared blankly at Li Yueying.
Li Yueying stared back at Yu Rong in shock, her lips quivering as if not understanding what had happened. She even tremblingly raised her hand to touch the arrowhead protruding from her temple.
From not far away came Que Cha’s breathless voice: “Yu Rong, Yu Rong!”
Yu Rong looked away from Li Yueying toward the voice.
It was Que Cha, standing about ten meters away with a crossbow in hand and a pack on her shoulder. Behind her, about ten meters further, were two more people—three figures in total, one in front and two behind, shaped somewhat like wild geese flying in a V-formation that she’d seen in the sky as a child.
Yu Rong let out a long breath.
Only then did Li Yueying finally collapse.
On the other side, Yan Tuo hadn’t let go, having used all his strength until his arms were stiff. He didn’t know how to release Li Yueying’s legs anymore.
He softly asked: “Did our people come?”
Yu Rong murmured: “Yes.”
She found it strange—she had only left Que Cha and Sun Li to guard the door, yet now three people were running this way.
What about the Golden Human Door? Was anyone still guarding it?
It didn’t matter anymore. Each place had its encounters, its own stories. Thankfully they had arranged for Que Cha to stay and guard the door. If she had joined the team, she probably would have died heroically, and this rescue wouldn’t have happened.
Yu Rong closed her eyes.
She was truly exhausted.
When Yan Tuo woke again, he was on the mountain forest path.
Like before, he felt his body swaying, but differently—he heard birds chirping, smelled soil and fresh grass, and felt sunlight’s unique warmth on his skin.
Had they… made it out?
Yan Tuo’s heart jumped, and he instinctively tried to open his eyes. His eyelids were heavy, refusing to lift despite several attempts, but his ears were sharp, catching snippets of conversation.
“The sun’s out—Sister Rong will be saved now.”
“Indeed. I couldn’t sleep last night, worried today would be cloudy.”
Sister Rong… Yu Rong?
He remembered—Yu Rong had been clawed by Li Yueying. They were hoping for strong sunlight, probably for natural fire treatment.
The voices suddenly lowered, taking on a careful tone.
“But… Uncle Jiang, there’s no hope, right?”
“With the red line across his pupils, there’s no chance. Sister Rong is worried too. What should we do about Uncle Jiang…”
Yan Tuo opened his eyes.
Everything was still black—he was wearing an eye covering. Without thinking, he removed it, only then understanding why it had been there: blinding light instantly flooded his vision, making him groan in pain, and quickly shut his eyes again.
His vision was filled with blood spots as if countless needles were pricking his eyes.
The stretcher was immediately set down. Someone with experience comforted him: “It’s alright—after being underground so long, your eyes need time to adjust. You can’t just open them suddenly like that.”
Another person rattled a water cup: “Have some water. We boiled it this morning, it’s still warm. Soaked some bread in it—not tasty, but suitable for your condition. Sister Rong said to give you a ginseng tablet after, and once we meet that Mr. Lü whatever, you’ll be fine.”
Yan Tuo remained silent.
He was lying face down on the stretcher. His back seemed to have been treated but had lost all feeling. He even had the absurd thought of wondering if he still had a back at all.
From these two people, Yan Tuo learned what had happened at the Golden Human Door.
They were hostages who had been kidnapped along with Jiang Baichuan by Lin Xirou. During their captivity, they had been moved several times, with the final move being into Green Soil.
As hostages, their lives constantly hung in the balance, living in perpetual fear: exchanges could mean either rescue or death, so they were always looking for chances to escape.
The opportunity came suddenly when strange creatures with white eyes appeared, arriving with overwhelming force.
The group fell into chaos. Those who were timid or slow to react died on the spot. These two were clever ones who managed to protect themselves and seek escape opportunities, with the right strategy—they both kept an eye on Jiang Baichuan.
An old horse knows the way—no one knew the routes better than Jiang Baichuan, who had been in and out of Green Soil multiple times.
But they didn’t dare get too close, only watching from afar, because as fellow hostages, they knew he had been physically injured by Ground Xiaos and was like a time bomb that could explode at any moment.
Fortunately, nothing else happened along the way, probably because the Golden Human Door was at Green Soil’s edge, too close to “above ground” for the White-Eyed Ghosts, making their search in this direction relatively careless.
When Jiang Baichuan reached the Golden Human Door, the two were still far behind. As they approached, they witnessed sudden chaos: Jiang Baichuan suddenly attacked, but Que Cha shot him down with an arrow and ordered Sun Li to tie him up securely.
The two were too scared to approach, hesitating for a long time before revealing their identities and calling out shakily.
Que Cha was very cautious. She threw them a rope from afar, making them strip to their underwear, then tie each other’s hands and hop over one at a time for Sun Li to examine their bodies. Throughout this, she kept her crossbow drawn, declaring she would shoot if they made any sudden moves.
Who would dare move?
They both complied obediently, passed inspection and joined the door-guarding team, receiving food.
Later, another escapee arrived, not a hostage but one from Xing Shen’s team—another lucky survivor from the White-Eyed Ghosts.
By then, Que Cha’s group, including Jiang Baichuan, had grown to six people.
Through these returnees, Que Cha gained a rough understanding of the situation inside. Though worried about Yu Rong’s circumstances, she knew she could not mount a rescue. She focused on defense, hoping more people would escape back.
Two days passed without any activity. This very peace caused Que Cha and the others to relax their “armor-wearing” vigilance somewhat.
But they couldn’t wait aimlessly forever. They needed to decide whether to stay or go. After discussion, they decided to carefully search along safe areas—where luminous stones were densely distributed—before making further plans.
In the evening, they met up with Lü Xian’s group, who were following the route inward.
The two stretcher-bearers handed Yan Tuo over to Lü Xian and immediately returned. Yu Rong planned to guard the Golden Human Door area for a few more days, hoping to rescue more people—Green Soil was vast, and perhaps some were still circling inside, unable to find their way.
Lü Xian had one good quality: while he could be annoying when Yan Tuo wasn’t in danger, he was professional and dedicated when someone was truly in trouble.
After receiving photos of the injuries, he leveraged his network, contacting his seniors in surgery and orthopedics, researching proper medication, debridement, suturing, potential complications, and necessary follow-up medical care.
Now that he had the patient, he didn’t waste words but immediately set up to work. Since Yu Rong had said “Spare no expense, use the highest standards,” he had even brought an assistant.
After receiving anesthesia, Yan Tuo passed out. When he woke the next morning, perhaps still under the drug’s influence, his mind was foggy and his vision unclear. Lü Xian’s large face seemed to float before him like a swollen steamed bun.
Lü Xian said: “Yan Tuo, you need to be mentally prepared…”
From his tone, Yan Tuo thought he might be beyond medical help, beyond saving.
“…I expect you’ll have a serious illness. Your body has depleted its reserves this time.”
Yan Tuo closed his eyes, his head unbearably heavy.
He thought of Nie Jiuluo—after swallowing the powder ground from the Life-and-Death Blade, she must have been depleting her body too, much more severely than him.
Lü Xian: “I’ve used every trick I know for your wounds, but I’m not very confident. I suggest you go to the hospital for observation. After your condition stabilizes in a week, you can recover at home. If doctors ask about the wounds…”
He lowered his voice: “Were you poaching? Yan Tuo, I’m telling you, stop getting involved in your aunt’s… unseemly business. Something bad will happen sooner or later. I suspect… even I might be in trouble then.”
He was truly worried, having long planned to extract himself cleanly, but kept getting delayed and sinking deeper.
Yan Tuo smiled slightly and mumbled: “Don’t worry… my Aunt Lin… went back home, probably… won’t return. The company will only do regular business from now on… if you want to resign, submit a request, and I’ll approve it.”
Lü Xian was startled—this direction was too sudden. How could someone just quit like that? He suspected Yan Tuo was talking nonsense.
He cleared his throat: “Well… shall we get going? I think the hospital near your home would be fine…”
Yan Tuo shook his head: “Not going… home.”
Lü Xian paused: “Then where will you stay?”
Yan Tuo didn’t answer, but his hands instinctively clutched: “My… knife?”
Ah, the knife—remembering now, there was one handed over with Yan Tuo. Lü Xian quickly brought it to him, carefully warning: “There’s no sheath, the blade is wrapped in leather. Be careful.”
Yan Tuo gripped the leather-wrapped blade, his heart slowly steadying.
Luo couldn’t be dead. If she were dead, the White-Eyed Ghosts would have just left her body there—why bother taking her away?
She must be alive. There would be another chance to meet. He needed to recover quickly and return through the Golden Human Door.
But… why had the White-Eyed Ghosts spared him?
They had taken so many people, why specifically… spare him?