Mingshu lay on Si Chu's back, the persistent high fever making her thoughts somewhat blurred.
"How much longer until we can get out?"
Si Chu surveyed the surroundings, a trace of fierceness fleeting across his eyes, "Soon."
A mere labyrinth, and it dared to think it could trap him?
Mingshu's weakened state inevitably made him anxious, a vine as thick as a wrist suddenly lashed out from the side, about to pierce through Mingshu's shoulder.
With a light leap, Si Chu freed a hand, and a golden thread sprang from his wrist, the hair-thin golden line effortlessly severing the vine.
Suppressing the urge to burn this place to ash, Si Chu didn't pause, he pivoted on the balls of his feet and burst through the encirclement with Mingshu on his back.
There was a subtle shift in the scenery ahead. Si Chu's brows relaxed, but he didn't immediately lower his guard, his cold and fierce gaze swept around, suddenly hearing a shout:
"Mingshu!"
It was Yue Fuguang's voice.
