Feng Fuce held onto Zhi'er's hand.
Zhi'er kept looking back from time to time to check on Qingmei.
Fortunately, although Qingmei had just been deeply shaken, she was forcing herself to stay strong and closely followed them.
She would not collapse unless she personally found Chu Ping.
Feng Fuce followed the traces of the scattered demons, moving forward all the way.
Qingmei exclaimed, "So much blood!"
She pointed to the bushes beside them.
Zhi'er and Feng Fuce looked over.
Under the moonlight, the fresh blood on the leaves appeared dark and black.
Almost the entire piece of land was dyed red.
Chu Ping might have stopped here for a moment.
Qingmei covered her mouth and cried painfully.
With so much blood, can he really survive?
How badly was Chu Ping injured?
Zhi'er also furrowed her delicate brows, deeply worried.
Feng Fuce's indifferent words acted like a calming pill.
"He's not dead, he's still breathing. But if we arrive late, he might truly be beyond saving."
