Chapter Ninety-Four: The Retreat of Ten Thousand Insects

I lost track of how many hours had passed when a sliver of dawn light pierced through the mist in the forest, streaming directly between the trees and foliage. The rays filtered through the leaves and flowers, finally resting upon a delicate face.

Her features were untouched by makeup, yet she was naturally radiant. Her brows furrowed slightly, eyes tightly shut, her expression troubled as if wrestling with the remnants of a dream she could not quite grasp.

As if summoned by the first light of day, her almond-shaped eyes suddenly snapped open, gasping for breath as she scanned her surroundings.

Upon waking, the woman realized the person she had been thinking of in her dream was nowhere near her. Anxiety washed over her face as she called out, “Su Bai, where are you? Where are you?”

She barely moved when a sharp pain surged through her body, causing cold sweat to break out. Gritting her teeth, she glanced down at her right leg.

This woman was Gu Fanshuang, who had fallen off a cliff alongside Su Bai.

At the time, Gu Fanshuang had already understood that neither of them stood a chance of escaping before Xi Menghe’s eyes. Below, a vast thicket of dense forest awaited. She had no choice but to gamble her life on a desperate bid for survival.

But she had underestimated the force of the fall. Her left arm was shattered, muscles and bones torn apart, hanging limply by her side. Her right leg had been impaled by a sharp piece of wood.

The impact from the fall was tremendous. Though she tried to use her internal energy to cushion the blow, the speed of the descent was too great to fully resist. Every movement now sent waves of unbearable pain coursing through her body.

“Ah! Ugh.”

She could not suppress a cry of pain but immediately clamped her right hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. Her silver teeth clenched tightly, cold sweat soaking the tattered fabric clinging to her.

“No! I have to find him. That old villain could catch up any moment. Zhang Yuting, you cannot give up now!”

Gu Fanshuang’s gaze hardened as she pressed two fingers on acupressure points along her right hand. She then withdrew a jade vial from her bosom, uncorked it, and tilted her head back to swallow several pills.

With her right hand, she pulled a dagger hidden in her left arm, slicing off a piece of cloth to painstakingly bind her right leg. When her leg was nearly numb, she propped her left leg under her right, then lifted her right leg with her right arm, attempting to pull it free from the jagged wood.

The anesthetic and blood-nourishing pills she took earlier helped dull the excruciating pain of extraction and the loss of vital energy afterward.

Yet, such flesh-tearing, bone-breaking agony was beyond what mere medicine could quell.

Moreover, Gu Fanshuang had not waited for the anesthetic to fully take effect before pulling out her leg, making the pain even harder to bear.

This was a deliberate choice to minimize interference with her limbs from the drugs, a desperate measure.

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