Wang Geng and Xu Liangzhi stood on the high tower of Xian Chi, watching the overseers terrorize the newly arrived slaves. Wang Geng was still unsatisfied with today’s number, saying, “If we’re supposed to have twice the previous amount, these two hundred or so people won’t be enough. I’m guessing some won’t even last a few days before dying.”

Xu Liangzhi replied, “So you should restrain yourself a bit. Don’t torment them too much. Wait until things calm down.”

Wang Geng let out a derisive laugh, stroking the handle of the large blade at his side, eyes narrowing as he said, “It’s just that little young master who provides entertainment.”

“Looks like he might still have a chance to leave,” said Xu Liangzhi. “You’d better try harder to make his experience here unforgettable.”

Wang Geng smiled with an ambiguous expression.

The overseers, seeing the earth ghosts were sufficiently frightened and trembling with fear in their eyes, were finally satisfied and led them into the skypit.

The skypit was enormous. The slaves rested around the edge of the sand river, and the circular pit could completely isolate some slaves so they never saw each other alive or dead.

Cheng Jingbai, blending into the crowd, raised his hand to wipe his face and pushed away an unfamiliar earth ghost who approached him sobbing. His companion Lin Xiao walked ahead, while Li Bushuo walked behind, neither of them communicating with each other.

Li Bushuo had always maintained a low profile, and his naturally subtle presence was quite advantageous in this kind of place.

This time, he couldn’t wear his usual butter pastry cap, so his thin, handsome face was exposed. He seemed uncomfortable with this, constantly lowering his head to avoid eye contact.

The overseers drove them down into the pit: “Move quickly and get to work! If we discover anyone hoarding goods for themselves, you’ll suffer the consequences. If you don’t dig up the required amount, don’t expect to come up today. Stay down there and experience what it’s like to starve to death.”

These intimidating words did not affect Cheng Jingbai. Pretending to be frightened, he followed the others down into the pit and was surprised to find it cooler inside than outside, with the burning heat significantly reduced.

Inside the pit were not only earth ghosts but also ordinary people, with no separation by gender or age. An elderly man who appeared to be in his fifties fell when coming down and couldn’t get up, sitting on the ground, wailing pitifully.

Some who couldn’t bear to watch went forward to ask about his injuries, while others erupted in anger, telling him to stop howling as it was annoying everyone to death.

Cheng Jingbai walked deeper inside, the iron chains on his feet clanking against the ground. Only after moving away from the commotion at the entrance did his buzzing mind finally begin to relax.

Lin Xiao stood beneath the black wall, looking up and examining it. He reached out to tap the wall and said, “It’s a bit brittle.”

Li Bushuo began digging into the black wall directly. The texture was like sticky silt, requiring some effort to break apart. He sifted through it but couldn’t find any firestone jade in the piece of black mud in his hands.

Cheng Jingbai thoughtfully observed the black mud that fell to the ground and was gradually absorbed and disappeared: “Self-digesting, endless supply.”

“How do you both feel?” Lin Xiao asked.

Li Bushuo shook his head. Cheng Jingbai touched the damp ground and said softly, “From the entrance, I can’t sense the power of the stars. It’s impossible to use Star Vein power. This entire area seems disconnected from the world.”

The three of them dug for firestone jade in the black mud at the rearmost part of the pit while quietly exchanging information.

After their cries and wails, the people ahead also began to work. Lin Xiao glanced forward and said, “This place should be for those killer earth ghosts from the south.”

The earth ghosts who followed Sui Qiusan had a distinct characteristic—those who couldn’t sense star power all possessed exceptional skills. Their fighting abilities were outstanding, with specialized training in horseback riding, archery, hand-to-hand combat, and more.

Combined with their resilient mindset, they didn’t hesitate to kill any creature that wasn’t an earth ghost.

Cheng Jingbai sighed, “The earth ghosts from the south are killers, while those from the west… are truly slaves.”

When they infiltrated the Earth’s ghost villages in Tinglan State, they discovered that the Western Earth’s ghosts were artificially bred. They lived deep in the mountains and forests, uncivilized, living like wild beasts.

They knew nothing of the mysteries of heaven and earth, nor the ways of life and death.

When the earth’s ghosts in the skypit were nearly depleted, they would send in those bred outside.

“Sui Qiusan is busy with the father-son duel and probably has no time to come here,” Lin Xiao said as he dug through the black mud searching for fire stone jade. “Can you contact Zixi?”

Cheng Jingbai shook his head: “It’s cut off just like the star power. I think he probably can’t get in here either.”

Lin Xiao pondered, “If we don’t get out within seven days, according to the plan, Zhou Xiang will go eliminate those possible locations to find the right place. As long as she’s careful and doesn’t have the bad luck to run into Ye Yuanqing…”

Cheng Jingbai rolled his eyes: “Don’t jinx it.”

Lin Xiao raised his eyes to look at the towering black wall: “Rather than dying of old age here, the western earth ghosts would be better off dying by our hands.”

Li Bushuo frowned as he listened, then suddenly stood back a few steps to look at the black wall.

“What’s wrong?” Cheng Jingbai asked.

Li Bushuo raised his chin, staring at the black wall, and said, “Don’t you think it looks familiar if you stare at it long enough?”

Cheng Jingbai and Lin Xiao stepped back as he suggested and looked up. There was nothing special about the black wall in the pit; outwardly, it looked like an ordinary wall, with no particular patterns.

But after staring at the blackness for a while, all three earth ghosts inexplicably recalled the same image in their minds.

After a long silence, Cheng Jingbai said softly, “It does look similar.”

This pitch-black color strongly resembled the black flesh and bone that earth ghosts transformed into after death.

Zhou Yi thought he could get closer to Chen Zhou, but never expected that no matter what he said, Chen Zhou wouldn’t respond.

He asked, “When were you locked up here? Was it Zhong Anqi who did it? I know what’s been happening with Beidou these past few years. Do you want to hear about it?”

Chen Zhou continued silently digging for firestone jade.

But Gu San beside him scratched the wall loudly, saying darkly, “That bastard Gu Qi dared to replace you as a Beidou disciple. Who does he think he is?!”

Zhou Yi looked up at him, silently encouraging his brother to share what he knew.

Seeing Zhou Yi’s expectant gaze, Gu San asked, “Where is Gu Qi now?”

“I don’t know that. If I hadn’t been unlucky enough to overhear their conversation, I probably wouldn’t have been locked up here,” Zhou Yi said.

Gu San snorted, pointing at Chen Zhou and asking, “Are you saying it’s his fault you’re locked up here?”

Zhou Yi was stunned: “I didn’t mean that.”

Gu San grinned, and as he smiled, the muscles on his face pulled at his scar, making it look even more hideous: “Don’t you know that when you say these things and look at him, your face is full of grievance and blame?”

Zhou Yi angrily retorted, “I do not!”

Gu San pushed him, acting as agitated as a wild beast just released from its cage: “The overseer called you ‘young master,’ which means you have some background out there. The reason you were sent here isn’t because you overheard those two talking, but because of your identity.”

“Don’t blame others for your misfortune just because you’re suffering here. If you want to blame someone, blame yourself for not being careful.”

Even with his good temper, Zhou Yi was ignited by last night’s experience and these words. Without another word, he punched back, and the two began fighting right next to Chen Zhou, who didn’t even turn to look.

Finally, exhausted, they lay on the ground gasping for breath. Gu San, having endured many more beatings during his years of struggling in the slave pit and being stronger than Zhou Yi, got up and kicked him.

With both old and new injuries, Zhou Yi could only curse verbally, having no strength to kick back.

Anger welling up, he decided that since Chen Zhou was ignoring him, he would ignore Chen Zhou as well. What was the point of talking to a slave who had lost the will to live and had already been domesticated?

Even if Beidou’s people found this place, they would only be disappointed seeing his current attitude.

He climbed up to work, trying to find something useful from the firestone jade in the black mud wall.

The bell rang much later than usual. The slaves in the pit were exhausted, thirsty, and hungry. The overseers came to the entrance and lowered ladders for the slaves to climb up.

Zhou Yi licked his dry lips and wiped the sweat, only to find his arm covered in slime. Feeling disgusted, he watched the slaves climbing up and, in a moment of malice, thought that if someone didn’t have enough fire stone jade and got kicked down unconscious, he would borrow their clothes.

But heaven seemed to be against him today; everyone met the quota, and no one was kicked down by the overseers.

The slaves emerging from the fire pits were one of the spectacular sights of the Skypit.

Countless people crawled out of the blazing pits one by one. The once-empty ground instantly became crowded, and looking around, people were everywhere.

Cheng Jingbai sniffed his smelly clothes and retched in disgust.

Li Bushuo felt very uncomfortable in the crowd, while Lin Xiao looked around and saw there were even more people here than he had imagined.

The overseers brandished their clubs, driving the slaves toward the edge of the skypit.

Zhou Yi had even lost his shoes last night and now walked barefoot on the scorching ground. His feet had already blistered from walking earlier, and each step made him wince in pain.

Now all he had left was the long robe given by Wen Su to cover himself.

Young Master Zhou had never been so wretched in his life. Looking at the food piled on tables by the sand river, he inwardly feared what new trick awaited him.

As soon as he reached the sand river’s edge, he heard an overseer announce loudly: “Today’s thin pancakes also have meat filling!”

Zhou Yi: “…”

The overseer pointed his club at him: “Before the drumming stops, pluck any of his hair in exchange for one!”

Damn it!

Zhou Yi turned and ran, ignoring the pain of his injuries. His survival instinct stimulated him to ignore his body’s pain and run for his life across the skypit.

The guards on the drum tower beat their drums in a solemn and frenzied rhythm, each beat landing on everyone’s heart with a sense of urgent pursuit.

Slaves ran toward Zhou Yi from all directions, more and more of them.

Cheng Jingbai, who had just taken a bite of a steamed bun, stopped under a giant tree by the sand river and looked toward the pit. The figure running this way became increasingly clear. Even covered in mud, that face was unmistakably similar to someone he knew, leaving him stunned.

Beside him, a slave rushed out and tackled the running Zhou Yi, who kicked him away and continued running.

Lin Xiao narrowed his eyes.

Li Bushuo said, “A Zhou family member.”

Zhou Yi’s heart pounded like thunder, his survival instinct even stronger now. He had heard the requirement—he just needed to hold out until the drumming stopped. After all, the overseer’s mention of “any hair” made his heart grow cold.

Who knew what these slaves, devoid of morality and shame, would do when driven by desire?

But when the drumming would stop was entirely up to the overseers.

As long as he wasn’t tackled, wasn’t humiliated, the drumming would never stop.

He ran for a long time, but still couldn’t hold out until the end. He was tackled to the ground by the ever-increasing number of slaves who grabbed and tore at his hair. Although he fought back ferociously, breaking necks and biting off flesh, he still couldn’t stop more and more people from piling on.

Cheng Jingbai asked his two companions, “Want to eat meat-filled pancakes?”

Lin Xiao and Li Bushuo turned to look at him. Cheng Jingbai took another bite of his steamed bun: “Forget it, let’s not bother with him.”

Zhou Yi felt his scalp burning with pain. Some people had ripped out his hair along with flesh. Blood flowed down his neck, both his and others’.

The long robe given by Wen Su had been torn off and lay nearby.

Zhou Yi blinked slowly.

Lying on the ground with his mind dizzy, he gazed at the dark “sky” without stars and fell into a daze.

—Why do people do this to each other?

Gu San unceremoniously yanked a bunch of Zhou Yi’s hair and exchanged it for three meat-scented pancakes, giving one to Wen Su.

Wen Su turned to look at Zhou Yi lying on the ground in the distance, unable to get up.

Gu San said, “Why do you keep looking at that unfortunate wretch?”

Wen Su ate small bites without answering.

Gu San darkened his face and continued, “That bastard Gu Qi, actually pretending to be Chen Zhou outside all these years, enjoying the good life at Beidou.”

Wen Su listened with a slightly startled expression, her eyelashes trembling lightly as she lowered her gaze.

Gu San laughed coldly: “Now that he’s been exposed by Beidou and has run back to the west to find Zhong Anqi, I think he’ll either die out there or eventually be sent back in here by Zhong Anqi.”

They had been captured and brought to this skypit when they were very young.

Until they met Chen Zhou and the others, it was both fortunate and unfortunate.

Wen Su would never forget what Chen Zhou looked like when he first arrived.

He was calm and collected, initially able to handle all kinds of difficulties with ease, feigning weakness when necessary, then calculating revenge against the overseers later.

In the fire pit, he would teach her to write, praising her for cleverly smudging her face black. He would share his firestone jade when she couldn’t collect enough, and would intervene when she was bullied.

Occasionally, her clumsiness and nervousness would make him laugh.

Those were among the few smiles Chen Zhou ever showed in the Skypit.

Wen Su learned many things from him, but also watched as he became the target of Wang Geng and others, making his life in the skypit increasingly difficult. The morality and shame she learned from Chen Zhou, she also saw destroyed in him.

He finally stopped speaking altogether.

Stopped looking at her at all.

Those people…

Those who once knelt and begged him for help ultimately stepped on him to leave this place.

Wen Su raised her eyes again to look at Zhou Yi in the distance. After a moment of silence, she decided in her heart.

Zhou Yi, who had fainted in the center of the skypit, was awakened by screams. He opened his eyes and turned his head toward the sound, seeing overseers and guards coming down to seize people.

They were all women.

The newly arrived slaves were in a panic. Girls screamed and cried, but were still pulled from the crowd and taken to the shore of the Skypit.

Seeing that only women were being taken, Zhou Yi had a bad premonition. When he saw the overseers walking toward him, his heart instantly sank.

The overseer smiled and said, “Young master, our Star Lord invites you to come up and play.”

He was forcibly taken away to the upper level of the skypit.

Cheng Jingbai turned a blind eye to the people being taken away, hearing Lin Xiao beside him say, “Glad we didn’t let Zhou Xiang come.”

All those taken away were female earth ghosts.

On the viewing platform above, Wang Geng leaned back relaxed in his chair, legs crossed, tossing an orange with one hand.

When the completely naked Zhou Yi was brought in with a group of sobbing earth ghosts, Wang Geng raised an eyebrow and smiled. He said to Zhou Yi, who was forced to kneel with hands on his shoulders, “When our esteemed Young Master Zhou comes to play in the skypit, we must entertain him properly.”

Zhou Yi gritted his teeth and said, “Let me talk to Ye Sheng.”

Wang Geng caught the orange falling from above and playfully said, “Sure, Young Master Zhou. If you make those earth ghosts behind you pregnant, I’ll let you talk to Ye Sheng.”

Zhou Yi thought this man was insane and looked up at him in disbelief.

Wang Geng asked, “Not willing?”

Zhou Yi couldn’t hold back: “Are you sick?”

Wang Geng laughed heartily: “You’re the only one naked here. I see Young Master Zhou is so eager, trying to fulfill your wish. Though they’re all beasts, they don’t look bad. Young Master Zhou, don’t set your standards too high.”

Zhou Yi was red with anger, fingers clenched into fists, but was held down kneeling and couldn’t get up. The humiliation made his breathing rapid.

Wang Geng watched his reaction with interest: “Or perhaps… Young Master Zhou still pines for Ye Sheng’s daughter, the great lady of Tai Yi?”

Zhou Yi shouted in rage: “Shut up!”

Wang Geng spread his hands: “That’s difficult. Getting her here for you—I’m afraid Ye Sheng wouldn’t agree.”

Zhou Yi struggled and resisted, but Wang Geng waved his hand and said, “Young Master Zhou will just have to make do.”

The overseers laughed as they grabbed Zhou Yi and moved toward the terrified, screaming female earth ghosts. Zhou Yi shouted angrily, “Let me go! Ye Yuanqing!”

He was grabbed by the hair and forced down on someone’s shoulders. Laughter and screams penetrated his ears. Zhou Yi was on the verge of collapse. He broke free from the overseer but hadn’t run two steps before being caught again, wrestling with the overseers.

Wang Geng was delighted to see them fight.

Here, his absolute advantage was in numbers.

These cultivators without star power were no different from ordinary people. Covered in wounds that never fully healed, exhausted and hungry, with depleted physical strength that couldn’t recover, they simply couldn’t fight against the overseers and guards.

Zhou Yi was also stubborn, absolutely refusing to touch the trembling earth ghosts huddled together. Even beaten to the ground, he still held onto the overseer tightly.

While applauding, Wang Geng stood up and walked toward Zhou Yi, who had been beaten black and blue and no longer had the strength to stand. He stepped on Zhou Yi’s head, bent down, and said, “Young Master Zhou’s true love for the great lady of Tai Yi moves me. Willing to die rather than touch another woman—even Ye Sheng would be touched. But if you can’t make these earth ghosts pregnant, to us, it means that thing of yours is useless.”

“Useless things might as well be discarded, don’t you think?”

Before Zhou Yi’s dazed mind could react, Wang Geng had already reached out, and Shi Dang hastily handed over his large blade.

The overseers kicked him over onto his back. Wang Geng raised the blade and brought it down. Zhou Yi had no time to think before the pain made him faint.

The naked Zhou Yi was thrown back into the sky pit.

The overseer ordered that everyone passing by him must say “Congratulations, young master” to him.

Zhou Yi vaguely remembered that as a child, he had heard the old steward of his family say that the Zhou clan’s bloodline had been cursed, that someone had cursed the Zhou family to die miserably and become extinct.

His father said it was just a rumor.

But now Zhou Yi felt that perhaps the curse was real.

He no longer knew the passage of time, only feeling that every moment of consciousness was unbearably difficult, and he still had to hear “congratulations, young master” over and over.

These four words carved an indelible mark on his heart.

Zhou Yi numbly wondered if Ye Yuanqing knew what kind of place this was, what kind of things happened here.

He couldn’t help but think of Chen Zhou—had he experienced the same things? Is that why he became like this?

As his thoughts wandered, after the intense hatred in his heart came deep fear.

A shadow approached him. Zhou Yi closed his eyes, unwilling to look, but felt warm clothing draped over his body. His eyelids twitched, and he slowly opened his eyes to see Wen Su.

She had given him clothes again, revealing the scars on her shoulders.

He finally understood the origin of the scars on Wen Su’s shoulders.

After silently gazing at her for a moment, Zhou Yi bent his arm to cover his eyes as tears rolled down his temples.

Wen Su said, “If you desperately want to leave this place, why not take a gamble?”

Zhou Yi asked hoarsely, “What kind of gamble?”

“You shouldn’t be stupid. I’ve heard the overseers say they just need you alive,” Wen Su said. “Bet that they won’t dare let you die.”

Zhou Yi moved his arm away and looked at her with reddened eyes. Wen Su squatted down and reached toward his neck, saying, “The overseers won’t have time to stop me, so the first to act will be the guards in the drum tower.”

They were in the center of the skypit. The overseers were all by the sand river, and if they noticed Wen Su trying to strangle Zhou Yi, they would have to run some distance to stop her.

Moreover, to prevent weapons from being seized and used against them, the overseers carried no sharp tools, only clubs. But the guards in the drum tower were all archers—only their sharp arrows could inflict fatal wounds.

Wen Su’s outstretched hand hovered, and she asked, “Do you want to take the bet?”

Zhou Yi’s fingers trembled slightly. Gritting his teeth, he said, “I’ll bet.”

Wen Su said, “If you can get out… You must promise me one thing: tell the people of Beidou where Chen Zhou is.”

Zhou Yi listened with slight surprise, looking at her with complex emotions. Taking a deep breath, he said, “I promise you.”

So Wen Su reached out with both hands and strangled him. Zhou Yi’s breath caught, his face reddened, and as consciousness began to fade, he heard the alarm from the drum tower. A long arrow whistled through the air and pierced Wen Su’s shoulder.

Wen Su let out a muffled groan and released her grip. Zhou Yi heard the overseers cursing as they sprinted toward him. Trembling and gasping for breath, he struggled to rise and grabbed the arrow in Wen Su’s body, pulling it out. Before the overseers arrived, he thrust it hard into his heart.

The overseers visibly panicked and carried Zhou Yi back toward the shore of the skypit at a frantic pace. News of his suicide attempt was relayed from the drum tower to Xian Chi, also waking some slaves.

From a distance, Cheng Jingbai saw Wen Su get up and run toward the edge of the skypit. He realized this girl had somehow killed herself with a tree branch and then come back to life.

Lin Xiao said, “With a tree branch… her strength and precision would require many attempts to succeed.”

Li Bushuo closed his eyes and said, “She wants to help that Young Master Zhou escape.”

Cheng Jingbai clicked his tongue and said indifferently, “Lucky him.”

After reviving, Wen Su ran toward the exit from the skypit but was fiercely stopped by the guards. She pulled back her long hair, pointing to the bite mark on her shoulder, and said, “I’m going to find Star Lord Xu.”

The guards thought she had caused trouble and wanted to beg Star Lord Xu for forgiveness. Their eyes turned ambiguous, but they let her leave.

Wen Su took a deep breath and ran toward Xian Chi without hesitation.

This wasn’t her first time coming to the upper level of the Skypit. Unlike the terrifying blazing honeycomb below, the upper level was an exquisite paradise—flower-filled groves and delicate pavilions, the drum tower majestic and imposing. The air was filled with refreshing sandalwood fragrance rather than the nauseating smell of burning flesh.

Above those flower clusters, fireflies danced, adorning the dark path. Wen Su fluttered through like a butterfly.

When Chen Zhou was taken away by the overseers, Wen Su knew that Wang Geng had been drinking today and had called for him to be humiliated, so she chose to act now.

She used to be timid and fearful, trembling uncontrollably when excited, her heart racing even when contradicting others on small matters.

She couldn’t accomplish anything alone.

But when strangling Zhou Yi, she was perfectly calm, controlling her strength precisely when driving the tree branch into her heart.

She had learned to write, learned to think, learned to see situations clearly, and weigh advantages and disadvantages.

Wen Su thought that after accomplishing so much, after changing so greatly, she could now save Chen Zhou.

As she ran toward the high tower of Xian Chi to find Chen Zhou, she recalled scenes from the past:

That day, when Xu Liangzhi dragged her into the high tower of Xian Chi, the room was full of drunk men. Xu Liangzhi smiled as he gripped her chin, watching her tremble in his hands, then pinched her face and said, “See, once you’ve cleaned yourself up, you look just as I like.”

That man bit her shoulder, licking the blood and saying, “If you can still stand and leave this room when the bell rings, you can go to the third floor and have them release someone.”

That entire night, she had her nose filled with the stifling smell of alcohol. It was unbearable to recall, yet she had persevered.

Wen Su stumbled to her feet under the ambiguous gazes of a room full of drunken men, pushing open the door to leave.

She clenched her fists, walking against the wall to keep from falling, taking several deep breaths to stay conscious, controlling her trembling as she went to the third floor.

It was all right—at least this time it wasn’t Chen Zhou protecting her, but her protecting Chen Zhou.

With this thought, Wen Su went to the third floor to rescue him, her heart full of joy.

The door to the third floor wasn’t closed.

She saw Chen Zhou kneeling with his back to her, head lowered, with people surrounding him, pointing and laughing.

Wen Su heard him saying those unbearable words one by one.

He said: I am a pig slave, I am not the senior brother of Beidou.

Wen Su covered her mouth with both hands and retreated, not daring to let Chen Zhou, who had been beaten to the ground, discover she was outside. She listened to the mockery and Chen Zhou’s repeated words, tears streaming uncontrollably, yet she bit her lip hard to prevent making the slightest sound.

She would never know what Chen Zhou experienced on the third floor.

Chen Zhou would never know what Wen Su had endured.

From that day on, they never spoke again.

Until Chen Zhou called her Wen Su once more.

Wang Geng, drinking and enjoying himself in the high tower of Xian Chi, suddenly heard someone report that Zhou Yi was near death. Furious, he smashed his wine cup and walked out.

As he walked, he called for a physician. Shi Dang wiped his sweat and followed, saying, “Star Lord, Zhou Yi’s injuries are critical, but the physician is drunk and won’t wake up soon…”

Wang Geng never imagined that at the crucial moment, the physician would be drunk. He laughed in extreme anger: “I’m not drunk yet, but he’s drunk first? He’s asking for death! Wake him up and throw him into the skypit! No need to wake him—throw him in directly!”

As soon as Wang Geng left, Wen Su arrived upstairs. She immediately saw Chen Zhou kneeling by the door and pulled him up to run.

After leaving the high tower of Xian Chi, just as they ran into the dark flower-lined path, Chen Zhou pulled her back to stop.

Chen Zhou asked her, “Was it you?”

“Yes, I wanted him to be sent away, then let you take his place,” Wen Su said. “He’s injured and his face is already unrecognizable—they can only see the arrow wound. You have similar builds. You once told me about faking death with an arrow. They fear someone dying and will be very anxious. They won’t look carefully. If you just hold out until leaving the mountain cave, you can use the star vein power. Then you can escape.”

She spoke quickly but expressed herself clearly. She thought she was calm, but her hand gripping Chen Zhou was trembling.

Initially, having Zhou Yi leave and inform Beidou was just the backup plan. Her original goal was to have Chen Zhou replace Zhou Yi and escape.

“Hurry over there. After they confirm, I can make the carriage stop…” Wen Su pulled him forward, but Chen Zhou pulled her back. “How will you stop the carriage?”

Wen Su said, “I can say I’m Star Lord Xu’s…”

Chen Zhou interrupted her: “Xu Liangzhi is outside today. With something like this happening, he’ll be the first person waiting at the entrance.”

Wen Su’s heart grew cold at his words.

The scent of flowers filled the air between them, with fireflies dancing among the branches.

Chen Zhou’s words disrupted all of Wen Su’s plans. Her thoughts became rigid as she stammered, “I-I have other ways… I can beg Star Lord Xu…”

“Wen Su.”

“Anyway, I’ll think of something. Let’s go over there first. This is our only chance.”

“You don’t need to beg anyone. Before anyone discovers you, go back first.”

Chen Zhou gripped her hand tightly. Wen Su sniffled—her old habit, which she thought had disappeared, returned. Her hands trembled violently, her eyes glistening with tears.

“I finally… finally managed to… I must try. I can’t give up!” Wen Su said and tried to run, but Chen Zhou pulled her back into his arms to comfort her uncontrollable trembling.

Chen Zhou said, “Susu.”

Wen Su’s heart collapsed. She clutched his clothes, her head pressed against his chest. Chen Zhou placed one hand protectively on the back of her head, holding her tightly against him.

“Why… I…” She sobbed incoherently, yet at this moment, countless grievances welled up, almost hysterical: “If you won’t go, I will! I must get out! I will find Gu Qi and Zhong Anqi and cut them into a thousand pieces! I’ll make them kneel before you to apologize, repent, and beg for your forgiveness! I’ll make them repay the suffering you endured a hundred, a thousand times over! I’ll make them suffer day and night in this hellish place and never escape! I’ll kill all those who bullied and humiliated you! I’ll make them all die terrible deaths!”