Huanhuan endured the pain and got up shakily in the snow.
She bit her finger and dripped her blood onto the lotus.
The almost withered lotus flower immediately recovered its vitality at a visible speed, and its grayish-white petals turned pale pink again.
Little Lotus rubbed Huanhuan's injured fingers, and its voice sounded like it was crying. "Mom…"
Huanhuan touched it. "Don't cry."
Sang Ye was taken away, but the trail left behind by the sled was still there. If they followed the trail, they should be able to catch up to Sang Ye.
She struggled forward, but she had to stop after two steps. She clutched her aching chest. Her lungs burned. She bent down and coughed until her lungs hurt.
She was too slow now. Before she could catch up to Sang Ye, the trail on the ground was already covered in snow.
Huanhuan grabbed a handful of powder made of shellfish grass and stuffed it into her mouth. She swallowed it with the snow.
