The feeling of a churning stomach relentlessly surged, halting Zheng Qing's laughter abruptly.
Not far away, Li Meng sat on the ground, her face deathly pale, tears rolling down her cheeks in torrents, her lips trembling as if trying to say something.
The pigeon Xiao Bai cooed and circled her non-stop. Poseidon's head emerged from her robe, shot to the ground, and seemed a bit dizzy. After staggering a few steps, it lay down on the ground, refusing to move any further.
Blue Bird held her sword, trying her best to straighten her back, and sat cross-legged.
Xiao Xiao took out her notebook, spread it out on the ground, and swiftly took notes with her trembling hand.
Neither the little monk nor the woman with the wine-red hair were in sight.
The newcomers with disheveled robes either squatted on the ground gasping for breath, retched while half-squatting, or tidied up their clothes on the side. They scattered around in groups, creating a messy scene.
