Liang Xin’an instantly felt his scalp tingle, reflexively raising his hand to pull the crossbow arrow trigger, when suddenly, a sharp pain struck his cheek, and he slowly came to his senses.
He was stunned.
Because Jing Rou stood before him, her face full of fury.
"Liang Xin’an, what the hell are you doing, shooting your hand crossbow in your sleep? Are you trying to kill me?"
Then came a torrent of profanities.
Despite being cursed thoroughly, Liang Xin’an wasn’t angry but rather relieved.
Because this was exactly the Senior Brother Jing he remembered!
Even so, Liang Xin’an asked cautiously, "Senior Brother Jing, what’s my nickname?"
"Nickname your XX, you don’t have a damn nickname!" Jing Rou retorted furiously.
Liang Xin’an finally breathed a complete sigh of relief.
He could confirm without a doubt that this was indeed Senior Brother Jing.
Because, if it were in his dream, no matter what, such foul language wouldn’t be possible.
Then, with a wry smile of relief, he said, "Senior Brother Jing, you have no idea what just happened."
"What happened?" Jing Rou asked with disdain.
Liang Xin’an then recounted the nightmare he had just experienced.
Jing Rou’s expression gradually turned grave.
Because this dream was indeed too bizarre, especially for a martial artist of Liang Xin’an’s level, it was almost an impossibility.
"Actually, I was feeling a bit drowsy earlier too, luckily, I went out to check the lighting vehicle, and the cold wind perked me up," Jing Rou said.
"So, what kind of eerie trick is this?" Liang Xin’an couldn’t help but ask.
"Who knows, but the snowstorm outside hasn’t stopped at all. If it continues like this, we might be holed up here for quite some time."
The two fell silent again.
None of this was good news.
The first was that the bizarre dream Liang Xin’an had had was nearly unsolvable, and secondly, the snowstorm outside showed no signs of stopping.
If this went on for days and nights, not to mention finding any caravan, they might not even be able to survive.
"Damn it, these bastards, only know how to use these ghostly tricks, why not have a straightforward fight!" Jing Rou cursed and went to the bonfire, adjusting it to a smaller flame.
Because no one knew how long the storm would last, every piece of fuel was precious and couldn’t be wasted.
Liang Xin’an wasn’t idle either. He got up and went outside the tent. Sure enough, the snow hadn’t lessened a bit; instead, it was becoming heavier.
In just a short while, the ground had accumulated at least half a foot of snow.
Liang Xin’an suddenly felt as if he and the small tent behind him were like a solitary boat navigating a white ocean, and the lighting vehicle that emitted a faint sheen was the lantern on the ship.
He slowly exhaled a breath and began to clear the snow on the lighting vehicle, preparing to push it inside the tent.
But just as he was busy with his head down, he suddenly noticed that a blurry figure had appeared on the translucent cover made of natural crystal.
The figure was eerily human-shaped, and it seemed to be standing right behind him, staring menacingly.
Startled, Liang Xin’an turned back immediately but saw nothing behind him except swirling snowflakes.
When he looked back at the translucent cover, it was also empty.
But Liang Xin’an was utterly convinced he wasn’t imagining things; he had clearly seen a human-shaped silhouette.
But he didn’t disclose it, instead acted as if nothing had happened, continuing to clear the snow off the lighting vehicle, and then pushed it inside the tent.
"Senior Brother Jing, give me a hand!" Liang Xin’an called.
Jing Rou didn’t suspect anything, coming over to help push the vehicle.
But just then, Liang Xin’an whispered in his ear about what he had just experienced.
After listening, Jing Rou discreetly glanced outside the tent, then nodded slightly to indicate he understood.
With the lighting vehicle’s assistance, not only did the tent become much brighter, but the temperature also rose slightly.
Actually, if they opened that translucent cover, the temperature would rise even more.
But doing so would quickly catch the tent on fire, so Liang Xin’an and his companion refrained from touching it.
The two sat on either side of the tent entrance, gripping their weapons tightly, exchanging silent glances.
Outside, the wind howled, and the canvas flapped like turbulent waves.
Even though Liang Xin’an had packed the corners tightly with snow, cold wind still seeped through the gaps.
The temperature inside the tent fell, but the two remained still.
Because just moments ago, amidst the howling wind, they had heard an unusual sound.
Like something lurking outside the tent, spying on them.
The malicious scrutiny could be sensed clearly through the fabric.
The two continued to wait.
The fire in the pyre gradually extinguished, and the tent’s temperature relied solely on the faint light from the lighting vehicle.
But neither of them moved.
Because they knew now it was a test of endurance.
The first to lose their composure, might lose everything.
They had no idea how much time had elapsed; all Liang Xin’an knew was that his face felt almost numb from the cold.
Just then, a strange cry sounded from outside.
The sound was eerily like a woman’s wailing, sorrowful and haunting, and on this snowy night, it made one’s hair stand on end.
Liang Xin’an and Jing Rou intended to act the moment the disturbance occurred.