"So does that mean we can’t go anywhere now?"
"That’s right. Let’s wait here for now, and start moving again after the blizzard passes."
Though Jing Rou often seemed quite hot-tempered and would use the Thunder Bomb at the slightest provocation, she was incredibly cautious and clear-headed in matters of life and death like this.
"Alright, I’ll set up the tent then."
Before setting out, Kong Xiangdong had specially prepared a lightweight tent for the two of them, just in case of emergencies.
Liang Xin’an first cleared a patch of ground, set up the tent, and used snow to secure the corners.
After the busy work, Jing Rou pushed the light cart to the side of the tent and adjusted the brightness to the lowest setting.
The reason for not turning it off completely was that Jing Rou was worried that the cold snap might freeze the kerosene, which would be a real problem.
Then she and Liang Xin’an moved the campfire into the tent.
Although the tent was lightweight, it was made of high-quality materials, so it had excellent insulation, and the temperature inside quickly rose.
Meanwhile, the wind outside grew louder, like a pack of howling wolves.
Even Liang Xin’an was secretly alarmed.
After all, he had never experienced such a fierce blizzard before.
Fortunately, the tent’s barrier, combined with the warm campfire, gradually calmed Liang Xin’an’s heart.
Jing Rou took out a wine pouch, warmed it by the fire for a while, then unscrewed the cap and handed it to Liang Xin’an.
"Take a few sips of wine to warm up!"
Liang Xin’an took the wine pouch, drank a few gulps, and let out a long breath.
"Damn, I’m off to a bad start. We barely left the camp when this heavy snow hit."
Jing Rou also took the wine pouch, sipped it slowly, and then said in a deep voice, "This snowstorm is a bit odd."
Liang Xin’an paused, immediately retorting, "Why do you say that?"
"Because this snowstorm is too severe. Even by the Wuyang Sea, such a blizzard is rare, let alone at the edge of the Northern Realm Snowfield."
"Could it be related to the Black Ship?" Liang Xin’an asked seriously.
Jing Rou shook her head, "No one can say for sure, but it’s definitely not normal."
Hearing this, Liang Xin’an felt a heaviness in his heart.
Before coming here, he thought that although the mission was challenging, with ample preparation and the Mechanical Sect’s full arsenal, including cannons, nothing would stand in his way.
But as soon as they arrived, they encountered one problem after another.
First, there were the Ghost Monkeys, then the camp was mysteriously sealed off by some unknown force.
Finally, after he and Jing Rou struggled to leave the camp, they faced this rare blizzard.
Each of these events was fraught with weirdness and mystery.
The tent fell into silence as they drank the wine quietly.
The wine was specially prepared for them by Yang Zhan, potent and infused with herbs that promoted circulation.
As Liang Xin’an drank, sleepiness crept up on him.
Despite constantly reminding himself to stay awake, his eyelids felt as heavy as if they were weighed down by tons, and he couldn’t keep them open.
Moments later, Liang Xin’an felt himself falling into darkness.
After an unknown amount of time, Liang Xin’an suddenly awoke from the cold.
When he opened his eyes, he found himself lying on the ground. The campfire beside him had long gone out, with only a few weak embers flickering.
The tent was cold as an ice cellar.
Liang Xin’an struggled to get up from the ground, then saw his Senior Brother Jing Rou lying on the other side of the campfire.
He walked over, "Senior Brother, wake up!"
But Jing Rou didn’t respond at all, and he couldn’t even hear her breathing.
Startled, Liang Xin’an immediately bent over to turn Jing Rou’s body.
Jing Rou’s body was as hard as ice, and when Liang Xin’an finally managed to turn her over, he saw a horrifying scene.
Jing Rou had a smile on her face, her eyes slightly open, and maggots crawling in and out of her nostrils.
Liang Xin’an screamed and suddenly sat up from the ground.
"What happened? Did you have a nightmare?" Jing Rou’s voice came from beside him.
Liang Xin’an, still shaken, looked back and saw Jing Rou sitting by the campfire, looking at him with a hint of question on her face.
Only then did Liang Xin’an let out a long breath and nodded, "Yeah, I had a dream."
"Heh, I noticed you were a bit tipsy earlier. Once you lay down, you were snoring away. Seeing you sleep so soundly, I didn’t want to wake you!"
Saying this, Jing Rou stood up and said, "It’s fine. The snowstorm has stopped. Let’s get going!"
"The snow has stopped?" Liang Xin’an was startled, and then he listened carefully and realized that the howling wind outside had indeed ceased.
Though he was still puzzled by how such a fierce snowstorm ended so quickly, Liang Xin’an quickly got up and followed Jing Rou outside the tent.
Indeed.
The snowstorm had passed, leaving a vast expanse of white land, and the air seemed to be freshly washed and clear.
The light from the cart was still on, and Jing Rou went to check on it, giving orders without looking back, "Pack up the tent, and we’ll be on our way."
"Oh, okay!" Liang Xin’an responded, prepared to pack up the tent.
But just then, as if remembering something, he suddenly asked, "Senior Brother Jing!"
"Hmm?"
"Do you remember my nickname?"
Jing Rou was taken aback, then laughed, "Why are you asking this all of a sudden?"
"Just curious," Liang Xin’an replied calmly.
"Isn’t it Little An?"
"Hmm, you keep busy, Senior Brother!"
Jing Rou lowered her head, just about to check the lighting cart, and Liang Xin’an raised his hand with a hand crossbow shot.
At such a close range, and with no defenses, Jing Rou had no chance to evade.
But oddly, after the sound, Jing Rou’s body didn’t bleed. Instead, it deflated like a punctured balloon.
Liang Xin’an smirked coldly, "You thought such tricks could fool me? I don’t have a nickname at all!"
As he spoke, the scene in front of him began to sway and then shattered violently.
When Liang Xin’an opened his eyes again, the campfire was blazing brightly.
Jing Rou was gently stirring the embers with a stick to make them burn more efficiently.
The wind roared outside, but inside the tent, it was as warm as spring.
Liang Xin’an wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and let out a long breath.
"What happened?" Jing Rou looked up and smiled.
"Nothing, just had a nightmare."
"Oh? A nightmare? With your level of cultivation, that’s unlikely," Jing Rou said curiously.
It’s known that a Martial Artist’s cultivation, once reaching a certain realm, rarely results in dreaming.
Liang Xin’an forced a smile, "How would I know? I just took a quick nap and ended up having a dream within a dream, where I saw you, Senior Brother...."
"What about me?"
"I dreamt you died once and were impersonated by something else once...."
"Died once? Is that so?"
As she spoke, Jing Rou lifted her head with a bizarre smile, as maggots wriggled in and out of her nostrils.
"Oh, crap!" Liang Xin’an jolted awake, once again rising from the ground.
"What happened, what happened?" Jing Rou also sat up, groggily asking.
But looking at Senior Brother’s familiar face, Liang Xin’an felt only dread.
He quickly shifted his position back, secretly readied his hand crossbow’s trigger, and asked seriously.
"What’s my name, and what’s my nickname?"
"Xin’an, are you still dreaming? You don’t have any nickname," Jing Rou said, utterly confused.
Liang Xin’an finally relaxed, releasing the trigger, forcing a smile, "Senior Brother, don’t blame me for being cautious. I just dreamt...."
"Dreamt what about me?" Jing Rou said softly, a strange smile playing on her lips.