The night was as dark as ink, pressing heavily on the cellar, shrouding the entire space in suffocating darkness.

In the dark and damp corner, only Zheng Wan's thin figure was curled up.

The chill in the cellar seeped into her bones, sending shivers down her spine and even her breathing trembled slightly.

Countless thoughts flashed through her mind: Did Uncle Zhou pass the message on?

Where exactly is this?

Can they follow the clues to find themselves?

Every question pierced her nerves like a needle tip. However, at this moment, the thought of escaping was like a blazing flame, churning in her chest.

Zheng Wanqing searched anxiously in the darkness, trying to find a glimmer of hope. In a corner not far away, there was a piece of broken porcelain that was faintly glowing. She was suddenly delighted, just like a drowning person grabbing a life-saving straw in despair, and the instinct for survival drove her to act without hesitation.

She twisted her body with difficulty and moved towards the broken porcelain pieces. The rough ground was like sandpaper, grinding her back sore, and every move seemed to exhaust all her strength.

It was not easy to break the porcelain shard, so she held it with her hands tied by ropes. The edge of the porcelain shard was as sharp as a knife, cutting her palm painfully. She aimed the blade of the porcelain shard at the rope on her wrist and began to saw back and forth. The rope was extremely tough, and every friction was like cutting her skin, and the excruciating pain spread from her wrist to her whole body like an electric current.

Faster, faster...

Beads of sweat rolled down her pale cheeks, and a strong smell of rust lingered between her lips and teeth, mixed with the damp and moldy smell of the cellar, which was nauseating.

She had bitten her lower lip to a bloody mess without knowing it, but she felt no pain at all. All her senses were focused on the rope around her wrist that was gradually loosening.

Suddenly, she felt a long-lost sense of relief at her wrist, and the tight rope was finally worn open. Her heart skipped a beat, and a glimmer of hope flashed in her eyes.

She endured the pain and struggled hard. The rough hemp rope left a last trace of blood on her skin before it finally slipped off her wrist.

Without having time to feel the relief, she immediately used her newly freed hand to untie the restraints on her other hand. Her fingers were numb and trembling from being tied up for so long. When the first rope fell off, she instinctively bent down to untie the restraints on her feet.

The moment her restraints were removed, she collapsed to the ground as if all her strength had been drained away. Her chest rose and fell violently, and every breath she took was accompanied by a tremor of survival, greedily absorbing the turbid but free air in the cellar.

Sweat-soaked hair stuck to her cheeks and neck. She raised her hand to tuck the wet hair behind her ears.

After calming down her rapid breathing, she slowly stood up, leaning against the damp wall, and crouched towards the exit of the cellar. She tiptoed towards the exit, but kicked over a rusty tin can in the shadows.

"Bang!"

The sound was particularly harsh in the silent night, like a thunderclap, instantly breaking the deathly silence in the cellar.

It's over.

The snoring at the entrance of the cellar stopped abruptly.

Old Qian opened his eyes suddenly like a wolf that had been awakened, and a trace of ruthlessness and vigilance flashed in his eyes. He realized that Zheng Wanqing might be trying to escape, and his eyes widened in anger. His already ferocious face became even more distorted with anger.

He rushed down the cellar, his footsteps sounded like the death drum of the King of Hell, and every step made Zheng Wanqing's heart tremble violently.