Kou Xiangxin was on the verge of tears: he had inadvertently seen the woman's face under her veil, deathly pale, with blood seeping from her eyes, it was clearly the face of a dead person!

And every now and then, she would suddenly move a little closer to him!

Even though I knew it was arranged by the production team, but—

He's still scared!

Kou Xiangxin carefully clutched a small corner of the thin blanket, silently praying to every god and Buddha he could remember.

Teammates, hurry up and get here!

And his teammates, whom he was constantly talking about, were also discussing him at that very moment—

Lang Zhuo, having finished his meal, was sipping his tea when he casually remarked, "Hey, how long has it been since Kou Xiangxin was arrested? He should be alright, right?"

Yu Lin glanced at his watch. "It's been half an hour, hasn't it? Don't worry, the production team won't treat him unfairly."

Lu Anna looked confused: "Why? Didn't you say we didn't have any scripts here?"

Nan Xian patted her head, her smile carrying a deeper meaning.

Yu Lin also smiled, winking at the group, his tone meaningful: "Indeed, there's no script, but he is—the Crown Prince."

The group burst into laughter. Lu Anna was stunned for a few seconds before she realized what was happening. Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she raised her glass to hide her suppressed laughter.

After having a late-night snack and chatting, the four of them officially set off to rescue their teammates.

The night road was difficult to navigate, so to prevent them from getting lost, the production team set up signs for them along the way—fragments of the bride's red dress.

They walked along the debris toward Cold Spring Mountain, chatting as they went.

Suddenly, a figure appeared under an old locust tree at the other end of the road.

It was an old man holding a hoe.

He was so thin it looked like a layer of tree bark wrapped around his skeleton, his back was hunched, and he was blind in one eye.

The blind man's eye sockets were deeply sunken, like a whirlpool.

He sized up the group with his good eye, brandished his hoe a few times, and roared a few words in the local dialect.

Nan Xian subconsciously took a half step back.

Just now, in the brief moment of eye contact with the old man, an extremely cold aura suddenly surged up from the soles of her feet and rushed straight to the top of her head.

Malice.

That was the first thought that popped into her mind at that moment.