In just a week, that remnant consciousness had been pushed to its limit.
Finally.
Zhao Xuanqi's consciousness suddenly coalesced, intertwining with that wisp of remnant consciousness.
BOOM!!
His consciousness blurred, and then it was as if he had entered a new world—a pure white space.
The space was empty, containing nothing but a single, small figure huddled in a corner. The figure's eyes were lifeless. It sat on the ground, body hunched, hugging its knees and trembling uncontrollably, as if terrified of something.
TAP! TAP! TAP!
His expression calm, Zhao Xuanqi walked slowly, step by step, toward the figure.
As Zhao Xuanqi drew closer, the figure trembled more violently. But it did not flee—or rather, it had nowhere left to run.
Finally, Zhao Xuanqi stood before Zhao Qi, looking down at his trembling form.
Zhao Qi slowly lifted his head, and a flood of emotions surprisingly appeared in his hollow eyes.
Fear, indignation, anger, pain...
