The atmosphere plunged into an eerie silence.

Chen Xi lay motionless on the ground, like a corpse that had been dead for a long time.

Feng Yao stood in front of her, with a sickly smile, waiting for this corpse to slowly come back to life.

The body began to twist, limbs gradually twitching, the powerless body like a wild vine growing along invisible ropes, winding upward, one breath, two breaths, three breaths, forming a figure as fragile as a candle in the wind.