Wen Kexing fixed his eyes on him for a while, the meaning of his gaze unclear, before letting him go. Crossing his arms behind his head and stretching his legs to rest his feet on the wall on the other side, he laid down and said smugly, "But you can put it on your tab."

Fatigued, Zhou Zishu stopped talking nonsense with him. He closed his eyes and blearily passed out into sleep.

Wen Kexing knew his own limitations well. Other than Ye Baiyi, none of them understood this unfathomable witchcraft that was the art of the vanishing door, and they might come across unknown dangers if they stumbled around like headless houseflies. At present, Zhang Chengling was a little tyke who hadn't even matured enough to grow body hair, and Zhou Zishu was grievously injured. They might as well adopt a tactic of countering infinite volatile changes with stagnancy; to rest and recover where they were, catch their breaths before thinking of a solution.

With how stifled it was, Zhou Zishu’s breathing was very quiet, but yet very even, like he had fallen asleep. Wen Kexing turned his head over to gaze at him, and suddenly recalled the words of the Great Shaman of Nanjiang--“If you incapacitate yourself by ridding yourself of your martial ability, I might have a fifth of confidence that I can save your life.” Involuntarily, he sat up straight, channelled his martial energy into his palm and raised it slowly. Maybe…

Just as his palm hovered in hesitation, a hand suddenly plunged out of thin air. Icy fingers came to rest on his wrist. Zhou Zishu had opened his eyes sometime ago, and their gazes met in this cramped space.

Zhou Zishu's gaze was very calm. Not a single fluctuation in tone could be detected in his voice as he asked, "What are you doing?"

Wen Kexing did not speak.

All of a sudden, Zhou Zishu sighed. Moving his gaze away, he said, almost in a non-sequitur, "Others don’t understand, but do you not as well?"

Wen Kexing slowly dropped his gaze. A long while later, he gently let his palm fall to the side.

“Yes, I understand.” As he spoke, he abruptly sent his arm downwards, and a solid depression half an inch deep in the shape of his hand was imprinted into the ground underneath his palm. Like he was trying hard to convince himself, he repeated once more, “I understand…”

Zhang Chengling did not know when he had fallen asleep, nor did he know how long he had slept for, but he was suddenly jolted into wakefulness by a great noise from not too far away. He jumped to his feet in an instant, turning his neck to warily scan all directions. Then, a hand pressed down on his shoulder. Zhang Chengling jolted, whipped his head back, and discovered that it was his shifu, who had not been able to even stand a day ago.