Chapter 34: Thirty-four spirits, that’s wonderful.

The only message Ting Rui left behind was simply two words—
[Withered Bones].
[Withered Bones]

Forbidden Zone.

The temperature was so low that even their breath turned into mist.

Since entering the Forbidden Zone, heavy snow had been falling nonstop.

After the snow piled up deeply, even the simplest steps became difficult.

The Flower Class Guides trudged forward with heavy steps, leaving footprints with each footfall.

Lu Shuangshuang and the others still wore smiles of curious anticipation.

They chatted casually as they walked, keeping the atmosphere light.

Only the Teacher’s eyes were filled with worry.

In her hands were detailed files on [Withered Bones].

As an old and stable Forbidden Zone, it hadn’t seen such heavy snow in over ten years.

Yet now, the snowfall was so fierce it seemed determined to mercilessly cover all who entered.

In a Forbidden Zone, any anomaly was magnified a hundredfold.

Within seconds, the Teacher was able to ask countless questions.

Why had this heavy snow suddenly started?

What did it mean?

Was the Forbidden Zone still stable?

Were there unknown abnormal occurrences happening right under their noses?

Unfortunately, she didn’t have a single answer.

When Ning Li hurried to catch up from behind, Yuanzi rubbed her hands and blew warm air into them, teasing, “Li, you finally finished using the bathroom?”

Ning Li gave a casual reply, recalling the conversation Xiao Hei had just overheard.

This heavy snowstorm had started three days ago without any warning, catching everyone off guard. Three days ago, their group of guides was still on the journey.

So, what exactly had happened here three days ago?

Sadly, even the Sentinels who had entered early didn’t know the answer.

At least, Xiao Hei hadn’t overheard anything useful.

The veterans inside the Forbidden Zone were all discussing this unusual heavy snowfall.

The snowflakes danced endlessly, as if they would never cease. Large patches of white adorned this ancient Forbidden Zone with a solemn, sorrowful atmosphere.

The once tranquil ambiance inside had long since vanished.

Those who regularly roamed the Forbidden Zone knew something had happened.

Whether it was good or bad was uncertain—probably fifty-fifty.

Even Lu Shuangshuang and the others belatedly realized something was amiss.

After hesitating for a moment, the Teacher decided to rest in place.

“The snow’s too heavy. I’ll report this to the Academy later. If the weather continues to worsen, we might have to leave earlier than planned.”

Yuanzi shivered and nestled close to Ning Li.

“This weather is way too cold. But if we’re lucky, maybe we can leave today.”

She imagined the scene of shedding her heavy coat once they got out.

Leave?

Ning Li looked back toward the path they had come from.

Not far away, a thick white fog blanketed everything, visibility was almost zero.

The footprints they had just left behind were already erased without a trace.

When they first entered, visibility hadn’t been this poor, but in such a short time, the Forbidden Zone had completely transformed, losing all resemblance to its original state.

This ancient Forbidden Zone seemed to be gradually showing its true face—a powerful force intent on trapping all who entered.

Ning Li had a bad feeling; maybe they couldn’t leave for now.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, the Teacher’s face darkened as she notified all the guides, “Signal’s down. We can’t contact the Academy. Given the worsening weather, I’m taking the liberty to order an early departure. Everyone, stand at attention and prepare to exit the Forbidden Zone!”

“Yes!”

Yuanzi’s smile faded bit by bit, Lu Shuangshuang’s face was full of worry, and the other guides looked pale.

Shortly after, Ning Li realized they had lost their way in the snowstorm.

She looked down at her compass, its needle spinning wildly. With the compass useless now, getting lost felt inevitable.

At a time with such poor visibility, only Xiao Hei seemed carefree enough to wander about.

[Roast Chicken!]

[They’re actually eating roast chicken!]

[Wine!]

[Smells so good!]

Ning Li comforted the anxious Yuanzi while observing the surroundings.

The entire Forbidden Zone was shrouded in snow, everything within sight hidden beneath the white mist.

What secrets did this place hold?

[Eh?]

At that sound, Ning Li immediately sensed something was wrong.

After spending time with Xiao Hei, she knew the other’s every move like the back of her hand.

Before Ning Li could ask, Xiao Hei suddenly shouted, [Treasure!]

Ning Li:

???

Treasure?

Yin Que arrived at [Withered Bones] around 1:15 p.m.

Originally, the sun should have been shining brightly, but due to the heavy snow, it looked more like 4 or 5 p.m.

The sky was gloomy, clouds pressing down as if about to crush everything beneath.

Still wearing his duckbill cap, he walked calmly past Sentinels whose footsteps were uneven and erratic.

Nobody cared to investigate who this new Sentinel was or why he had come.

Everyone was too busy with themselves.

Passing Sentinels all said they couldn’t find the Exit.

Everyone was confused and anxious about the sudden disappearance of the Exit.

Only the newcomer calmly and steadily pressed deeper into the Forbidden Zone with a clear and determined goal.

Some noticed him but soon turned their attention back to the Exit.

At this moment, survival was all that mattered.

Every Forbidden Zone had a few oddballs.

This one, who headed straight deeper inside, was probably one unafraid of death, someone used to lingering on the edge of life and death.

Finally, in the white fog, Yin Que found the message Ting Rui left—

[Who are you?]

As he slowly stood, a hoarse voice behind him, void of any familiarity, spoke.

“Why do you know the password? Only three people know the password, and two of them are already dead. How can a fourth know it?”

Yin Que didn’t turn around.

He had drifted into thought rarely for him.

In his memory, Ting Rui had always been lively and optimistic.

When he found Ting Rui, the boy had been starving for many days.

Born in the poorest district, Ting Rui had eaten discarded stale bread, drank dirty water from the ground, and fought wild dogs for food.

But even when starving close to death, his voice still brimmed with vitality.

It was hope for the future.

After becoming his Vice-Commander, Ting Rui never felt ashamed of his origins.

Despite his hardships and having no parents, he was like a wild grass—unremarkable in appearance but endlessly tenacious, quietly growing in places others overlooked.

He generously shared stories of his hardest times to encourage other boys who had similarly rough childhoods.

He proudly told countless people that the luckiest thing in his life was being picked up by the Commander and becoming his Vice-Commander.

To Ting Rui, Yin Que was his patron, his eternal beacon in times of confusion.

To Yin Que, Ting Rui was his most loyal subordinate and most dependable partner.

But now, the boy had grown, and the liveliness in his voice was gone.

That voice, carrying five years of time, finally reached Yin Que’s ears.

He lowered his gaze and suppressed the tumultuous emotions inside.

Removing his hat, he slowly turned, “Ah Rui, it’s me.”

At that moment, time seemed to slow by several folds, each frame clear and slow.

Before this second, Ting Rui had harbored all sorts of doubts but had dismissed them himself.

He was prepared for the worst.

He was ready to die inside [Withered Bones].

But what he never expected was the impossible becoming possible.

When Ting Rui saw Yin Que’s face clearly, his pupils trembled, and he cried out, “Commander?!”

The reunited superior and subordinate sat together on a rock, reminiscing.

Five years had passed.

The once fresh-faced youth had become weathered, marked by years of long journeys.

His eyes were full of shock.

“Commander, so someone saved you? You actually didn’t die back then?”

Yin Que didn’t reveal Ning Li’s ability to return from death.

He simply said someone had rescued him.

He didn’t explain further, only looking at the distant sky and softly saying, “Sorry, Ah Rui, for finding you only now.”

Ting Rui lightly bumped Yin Que’s shoulder with his fist.

After five years of silence, a smile finally appeared on his face.

Those five never-ending years suddenly felt less heavy because he knew he could finally pause for a moment.

Tears welled in his eyes, and his hoarse voice carried a smile, “It’s okay, Commander, it’s just so good that you’re alive! Really good! So good that it feels like a dream.”

Yin Que was an easygoing superior who hardly ever lost his temper—at least, Ting Rui had never seen him do so.

He was overly tolerant, as if inside him was an endless ocean that could contain everything others couldn’t accept, big or small.

Perhaps, in Yin Que’s eyes, apart from the lives of his people, everything else was trivial.

He might even disregard his own life and death.

As a subordinate, Ting Rui could sometimes have harmless little interactions with Yin Que.

But mostly, he dared not.

Despite Yin Que’s easygoing nature, his rank and status created a natural distance between him and the others.

Ting Rui knew the Commander’s ideals and ambitions but had never truly seen into Yin Que’s heart.

It was too deep for ordinary people to explore.

In truth, there was no need for apologies.

Ting Rui thought.

If it weren’t for being unable to leave, knowing Yin Que’s personality, he would have appeared the moment Yin Que and Pei Yujian faced their desperate plight.

The only reason for not showing up was because he couldn’t.

They both knew Yin Que had indeed died back then.

But no one ever spoke of his resurrection.

What importance was there?

To Ting Rui, no matter the process, as long as the Commander had reappeared, it was the best outcome!