Ye Lingxi’s smile faded quickly, but it was still caught by Shi Qi and the other sentinels.
Shi Qi stood frozen in place, his silver hair blown up and falling back down by the wind. His eyes were still wide and round from before, but the content within them had changed.
From the excitement of “The Guide looked at me” to the ecstasy of “The Guide smiled at me.”
It was as if something had exploded in his mind, leaving it completely blank.
It took him several seconds before he mechanically turned his head to look at Ji Xiao beside him, asking in a dreamlike tone, “Did you see that?”
Ji Xiao hadn’t fully recovered from his earlier blushing state, but he nodded blankly.
“The Guide smiled at me,” Shi Qi said, his voice very soft, as if confirming some incredible fact.
Ji Xiao nodded again.
“She really smiled at me,” Shi Qi repeated, this time a little louder, with barely contained excitement. “Not at you, and not at all of you—she smiled at me!”
Ji Xiao: “…”
The others: “…”
Shi Qi took a deep breath, and then the corners of his mouth began to curve upward at a visibly noticeable rate. Higher and higher, more and more exaggerated, until his entire face lit up.
“The Guide smiled at me!”
This time he failed to control his volume. His voice was so loud that even Ye Lingxi, six or seven meters away, heard it clearly.
Though she couldn’t understand the words, she could hear the joy practically spilling out of his tone.
She had no idea what he was so happily grinning about…
…
Night fell.
That strange sun finally sank below the horizon, and a blood-red moon slowly rose.
A faint red glow enveloped the earth, casting a bloody tint over every scene in sight.
Ye Lingxi looked up at the blood moon, and that absurd thought in her mind grew clearer and clearer.
Had she traveled through worlds?
Was she really in another world?
A red moon hanging in the sky, surrounded by vampires—what kind of place was this?
Her chaotic thoughts didn’t last long. A cramp in her stomach pulled her back to reality.
She had fallen into this godforsaken place from the mass grave cemetery near midnight. By now, at least eight hours had passed without a single drop of water or grain of food.
The little reserves in her stomach had long been depleted. Now her stomach was completely empty, cramping painfully from hunger.
She snuck a glance at the sentinels not far away.
All twelve of them were busy, seemingly setting up a campsite.
As if sensing her gaze, several sentinels looked back at her.
Ye Lingxi immediately averted her eyes.
She had long noticed that these people seemed exceptionally sensitive to being watched from the shadows. Every time she looked at them, no matter what they were doing, they would inevitably look back.
And their gazes were especially intense.
Ye Lingxi rubbed her stomach and silently sighed.
Actually, she still had some food in her backpack—a self-heating hotpot for two, and some small snacks.
Originally, she had planned to use that hotpot to celebrate with her master after handling the mass grave matter.
But now…
Should she take it out and eat it?
Would those people try to take her food?
Just as she was lost in thought, footsteps approached.
She looked up and saw Mingzhou walking toward her.
Still using his ground-shrinking steps, he crossed dozens of meters in just a few strides and stopped in front of her.
Mingzhou crouched down to be at eye level with her.
He had done this several times now, and Ye Lingxi was somewhat used to it.
She looked at him, waiting to see what he would do next.
Mingzhou took out a small metal container from his waist. It was cylindrical, palm-sized, silvery-white all over, with patterns and symbols on the surface that she couldn’t understand.
The man unscrewed the lid and held the container out to Ye Lingxi.
A strange smell wafted out.
It wasn’t fragrant, nor was it foul—hard to describe. It was a bit like… a mixture of various chemical reagents?
Ye Lingxi frowned and shrank back.
Mingzhou looked at her, pushed the container closer, then pointed at the container, then at his own mouth, making a drinking gesture.
Ye Lingxi understood.
He wanted her to drink this?
She looked down at the liquid inside the container. It was colorless and transparent, faintly shimmering, like water, but that smell made her instinctively recoil.
She shook her head and shrank back further.
Mingzhou’s brow furrowed slightly, a hint of difficulty showing on his face.
He thought for a moment, then took out another identical container from his waist, unscrewed the lid, took a sip himself, and then held both containers out to Ye Lingxi, repeating the drinking gesture.
The meaning was roughly: See, I drank it. It’s not poisonous. This is safe to drink.
Ye Lingxi looked at him, then at the two containers.
She hesitated for a moment, then took the first silver container—the one Mingzhou hadn’t drunk from—and brought it to her nose, giving it a gentle sniff.
The next moment, her brow furrowed so deeply it could crush a fly.
Mingzhou could see her resistance. He remained in his crouched position, watching her patiently, his gaze so gentle it was like he was coaxing a small animal that refused to eat.
Ye Lingxi held his gaze for three seconds, then conceded defeat.
Alright, alright, drink it is. It shouldn’t be poisoned.
Besides, she was really thirsty.
These humanoid monsters were so formidable—if they truly wanted to eat her or do something to her, there was no need to resort to poison.
She brought the metal container to her lips and took a small sip.
Then her eyes flew wide open!
The instant the liquid entered her mouth, an intensely fierce sensation, like strong liquor burning hot, exploded violently, searing from the tip of her tongue all the way down her throat, into her esophagus—like swallowing a mouthful of liquid fire.
“Cough, cough, cough…”
Ye Lingxi jerked her head away, spat out all the liquid in her mouth, coughing so hard tears streamed from her eyes. She bent over, coughing violently, her entire throat feeling like it was on fire.
“Cough, cough, cough—what did you give me to drink? Cough, cough, cough…”
Her face was flushed red from coughing, tears smeared all over her face, and her throat felt as if it had been scoured with sandpaper—raw and burning.
Mingzhou’s expression changed.
He rose almost instantly, stepping to Ye Lingxi’s side in one stride, dropping to one knee. One hand steadied her shoulder while the other gently patted her back, his movements so light, as if afraid of breaking her.
“Guide, are you alright?” His voice carried obvious urgency.
Ye Lingxi couldn’t understand him, but she could feel the man’s tension and anxiety.
She coughed for a long while before finally recovering. She looked up, face streaked with tears, eyes red-rimmed, gazing at Mingzhou with a pitiful look.
Mingzhou’s heart felt as if something had clenched it hard.
“I’m sorry,” he said, even though he knew she couldn’t understand. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault…”
A dozen meters away, the other Sentinels had gathered around.
Shi Qi was the first to rush over. Seeing Ye Lingxi’s tear-streaked face, he froze completely, standing there at a loss: “Wh-what happened? What’s wrong with the Guide?”
Lin Chuan frowned, his gaze shifting between Ye Lingxi and Mingzhou, finally landing on the metal container that had been knocked to the ground.
“Nutrient Solution?” he asked.
Mingzhou nodded, his voice low: “I diluted it five times.”