In the early hours, at three o'clock.
Liang Zhiqiong was panting heavily, rushing along with Mo Shangjun.
Moving through the jungle, coupled with their hurried pace, Liang Zhiqiong had tripped over obstacles on the ground several times, acquiring quite a few scrapes.
Yet she gritted her teeth and pressed on without holding Mo Shangjun back.
Of course, how many times she cursed Mo Shangjun in her heart is another matter.
When they reached a small stream, Mo Shangjun finally stopped.
Liang Zhiqiong's legs went weak, but although the force with which she clung to Mo Shangjun's hem did not change, she didn't kneel down; instead, she bent over, supporting herself on one knee, gasping for breath.
Mo Shangjun stood firm, lowered her eyelids, and took a glance at her.
Not too shabby.
She had deliberately increased the pace after shaking off their pursuers, partly to test Liang Zhiqiong.
But—
