Wang Ye spoke earnestly about ghosts, then continued forward nonchalantly, even deliberately quickening his pace.
This time, unusually, no one pressed for details or chimed in. Only hurried footsteps and heavy breathing could be heard.
Rustle, rustle…
The sound of fallen leaves blended into the footsteps and the friction of grass, barely noticeable. Yet every leaf that entered their vision sent chills down their spines.
No one spoke. The tension was palpable.
Suddenly, someone coughed. The person at the back of the group immediately shrieked, “Ah—holy shit! Something grabbed my foot! Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit…!”
After a dozen or so “intimate greetings,” he finally calmed down, staring blankly at the vine tangled around his ankle. “It was a vine… that saved me.”
A companion patted his back and snapped, “Stop overreacting. You scared the soul right out of us.”
“Exactly, Captain Wang was just joking. We’re freaking ourselves out,” someone else added, wiping cold sweat from their forehead as they tried to rally their spirits.
Xia was a nation that revered gods and spirits. Even though people knew these things were fictional, fear lingered in their hearts—especially after Wang Ye’s eerily convincing explanation.
“Hey… where’s Captain Wang?” someone suddenly realized he was no longer with the group.
The one who noticed was Xia Qingqing, who clung tightly to Su Mo’s hand, refusing to let go.
“Holy shit, Captain Wang got taken by a ghost!”
Whack!
Wang Yun smacked the back of the speaker’s head. “Is that all the courage you’ve got?“
The one who got hit was Wang Yun’s cousin, Wang Feng, also a freshman with C-grade talent. He was terrified of his older cousin and didn’t dare talk back, so he stayed silent.
“Don’t listen to him. Captain Wang probably left on his own. If someone as strong as him could get taken down, we’d have been dead a hundred times over by now,” Wang Yun, a composed junior, stepped up to steady the team’s nerves.
He successfully redirected everyone’s attention and shared his thoughts: “I think we should stick together and face this trial as one. Thirty people united is a formidable force.”
The others nodded as he continued, “But a group this big is unwieldy. I suggest splitting into teams of five—six teams total. That way, we can watch out for each other within our groups and still support the others if danger strikes.”
His proposal was met with approval, and people quickly started forming teams.
“One more thing—we have more guys than girls, so try for three boys and two girls per team. That way, everyone gets as much protection as possible.”
Setting aside personal biases, Su Mo had to admit he admired Wang Yun. The guy’s quick thinking and courage were way beyond most people their age.
Just then, Wang Yun pulled his cousin over to Su Mo and Xia Qingqing, stopping a meter away.
“Ye Qingyi, looks like you haven’t found a team yet. How about… joining us?”
When speaking to Su Mo, Wang Yun shed his usual arrogance, his tone almost deferential. His cousin, however, couldn’t take it. “What’s the point of being pretty? A flower vase just drags the team down. Bro, let’s just—“
Whack!
“Apologize. Now.” Wang Yun’s face darkened, scaring Wang Feng into a hurried “Sorry!“—though he still seethed inside.
Su Mo was amused by the brothers’ antics and couldn’t be bothered to argue. He agreed to team up with them.
First, Wang Yun was competent—a decent partner.
Second, he wanted to see if the guy still had ulterior motives regarding him (Ye Qingyi).
“Your team’s still missing one,” said a cool-looking guy with sharp, wind-tousled short hair.
Su Mo recognized him—Luo Xiu, originally his classmate in Chemistry 2101 and one of only two students in their class with cultivation talent.
“Sure, welcome aboard!” Wang Yun’s face lit up—clearly because of Luo Xiu’s B-grade talent.
While talent mattered little before actual cultivation, it wasn’t completely irrelevant. Su Mo could already feel his training yielding better results than before.
Another thing: most high-tier talents came from wealthy families. True underdog success stories were rare.
“Hi, I’m Xia Qingqing.” At some point, the girl had let go of Su Mo’s hand and now stood in front of Luo Xiu, shy and sweet like the girl next door.
Su Mo mentally cursed her for abandoning friendship for a pretty face.
“I know you. B-grade talent.” Luo Xiu’s eyes burned with fervor.
“What’s your problem?” Su Mo shielded Xia Qingqing. That fanatical stare was way too easy to misinterpret.
“This big sis, I just admire her talent. But I don’t think high talent necessarily means going further.” He paused, then turned the same intense gaze on Su Mo. “Oh, right—you’re A-grade. Same logic applies to you…”
Su Mo: “…”
Xia Qingqing: “…”
Wang Yun: “…”
Wang Feng: “…”
Su Mo swore that if he were actually a woman, Luo Xiu would’ve learned firsthand that this big sis packed a mean punch.
Luo Xiu single-handedly killed the conversation. Meanwhile, the other teams finalized their formations, and someone proposed electing a temporary leader.
Wang Yun took the role without hesitation.
(He’d actually considered nominating Su Mo, but the latter refused outright, leaving him to awkwardly accept the position.)
“Right now, our biggest issue is that we don’t even know what our mission is. The only certainty is that our performance here affects future resource allocation,” Wang Yun cut to the chase again, steering the discussion.
“Talking about that now is pointless. Our priority is finding safe shelter before daybreak. Otherwise, forget performance—surviving until sunrise is the real challenge,” Su Mo said grimly.
The others shot him surprised looks. To them, Su Mo’s beauty was undeniable, but anything beyond that? Yeah, never noticed.
That’s how people were—when one trait shone too brightly, everything else faded into obscurity.
“The junior’s right,” Wang Yun agreed. “So our immediate goal is shelter. We’ll head for the mountainside—watch for caves or hollow trees along the way.”
The group moved cautiously uphill, nerves taut as they scanned their surroundings.
The mountain forest was chilly at night, but at least they were on the leeward slope. Otherwise, they’d have frozen half to death.
Su Mo picked up a wrist-thick branch—about as long as Xia Qingqing was tall—and gripped it tightly. Instantly, he felt safer. If anyone tried to ambush them now, as long as they were F-tier or below, Su Mo was confident he could knock them out in one swing.
Luo Xiu’s eyes widened. “Didn’t expect you to be this strong. That log’s dense—must weigh a few pounds. You’re swinging it around like a toy.”
Truthfully, a few pounds wasn’t that heavy—even Xia Qingqing could carry it. But wielding it like a twig? That was rare. And its thickness made it awkward to grip.
Wang Yun glanced over but stayed silent, though internally, he was reliving that humiliating night—being swung around like a club…
To mask his discomfort, Wang Yun softly ordered, “Everyone, count off. One.”
Wang Feng: “Two.”
Luo Xiu: “Three.”
…
“Thirty.”
“… Thirty-one!“
Everyone froze.
What the—?
Since when did they have thirty-one people after Wang Ye left?