Lan Tiao shook her head and said, "Not really friends, there's even a bit of grudge between us."
Chu Zhuzhu asked: "What's the grudge?"
Lan Tiao glanced at her and found that she really had a lot of questions, but still answered: "He wants to deal with me."
"Then you are truly magnanimous. Is this an act of repaying evil with kindness?"
"No, I think it's a waste for him to die at the hands of Lei Fenfei. We are now on the same page. I hope that even if he dies, his death will be more meaningful."
Chu Zhuzhu said, "No matter what, I think you're someone worth making friends with and a teammate worth entrusting. I hope we can work together to find a way to leave here."
Lan Tiao said, "I hope so."
He'd originally gone out hoping to train himself, to become stronger, but now, things hadn't been going well. First, he'd been targeted by the Life-Hating Sect, and then he'd ended up in this awful place, with no idea when he'd be able to escape. Lan Tiao suspected his luck had been down lately, so he decided to be more conscientious. His current goal wasn't to escape, but to stay alive in this strange village. As long as he was alive, there was hope. To be frank, Lan Tiao felt fortunate to be alive. As for escaping? The hope was slim...
Lan Tiao carried Gongsun Zimang to a white-haired elder from the Compassion Clan who knew medicine. The elder asked in surprise, "Did you two fight? Why is he so badly injured?"
Lan Tiao evaded the question and said, "I didn't hit him."
The white-haired old man examined Gongsun Zimang's injuries, snorted coldly, and said, "This person must have been beaten by one of my people. My people are always kind and would not easily use such a heavy hand. What on earth did this injured person do that angered heaven and man?"
Lan Tiao looked embarrassed. He suspected that if he told the truth, the white-haired old man would not only refuse to help with treatment, but might even beat Gongsun Zimang again...
The white-haired old man had a cold expression, but he still healed Gongsun Zimang's internal and external injuries, and instructed him: "Let him rest well for the next two days and don't work hard."
"Okay, thank you." Lan Tiao nodded. Seeing that Gongsun Zimang was still unconscious, he carried him out. After walking a distance, he heard a muffled voice from behind: "Lan Tiao, thank you for saving me."
In fact, he had already woken up when the white-haired old man was treating him, but he didn't dare to open his eyes, for fear that the white-haired old man would ask him why he was beaten.
Lan Tiao said calmly, "You're welcome."
"I, Gongsun Zimang, am a man who knows how to repay kindness. From now on, you will be my brother!"
Lan Tiao said, "No, if we can get away from here by chance, it's better to just be strangers again."
Gongsun Zimang touched his nose and said, "I won't use magic against you anymore, really."
…
…
The days passed one by one.
During this period, the statue required more and more sacrifices, and soon the Compassionate Tribe could not capture enough people. This was because the people in the Living City were not fools. After discovering that a large number of practitioners had disappeared, other practitioners dared not set foot in the Ci Guang Swamp again. However, this did not pose a problem for the Compassionate Tribe. The high priest presided over a secret meeting, and after the meeting, two children from the Compassionate Tribe were selected.
The two young children, a boy and a girl, looked only two or three years old. The boy had thick eyebrows and big eyes, and was smart and cute. The girl was beautifully made up and had a sweet smile. Both children knelt in front of the statue with an uneasy look on their faces.
The child's parents showed reluctance in their eyes, but soon, this reluctance was replaced by determination and enthusiasm.
"Children, do not be afraid. You will soon be sent to the Kingdom of God to obtain eternal happiness and peace."
"The gods will not treat you unfairly."
The two children nodded in confusion after hearing the adults' comfort. The boy asked innocently, "Are there flowers in God's kingdom? I want to pick one for my mother."
The boy's mother suddenly felt very sad. She said, "Yes, of course there are flowers. There are also lots of food and toys in the Kingdom of God. When you go to the Kingdom of God, you must be happy..."
While the mother and son were still talking, the tear marks between the high priest's brows had already lit up. The next moment, the two children's faces flushed red, as if invisible hands had grabbed their necks and lifted their bodies into the air. The boy struggled weakly, unable to utter a complete sentence. The girl's eyes quickly filled with tears, and her feet kicked wildly in the air, and soon she was completely motionless...
The bodies of the two children fell onto the altar, turned into blood and flowed upstream, staining the calves of the statue red.
"We beg the great gods to send messengers to help us..."
Soon, the sky and the earth were filled with white mist, and a crack appeared in front of the altar on the ground, from which dozens of handsome and noble boys and girls flew out.
These young men and women were covered with a layer of light white mist. The last pair of young men and women who walked out were each holding a child in their hands. These two children were the children who had just been killed.
After the two children came out, their expressions were the same as when they were alive. The boy smiled sweetly at his parents, and the girl looked at her family with great affection. Then, in front of everyone, the two children grew up at a speed visible to the naked eye, and soon grew into teenagers and girls. The innocence of children was lost in their eyebrows, eyes, and facial features, and instead they acquired a somewhat awe-inspiring and sacred temperament.
The parents of the young children cried with joy.
"Great! My child has become a messenger under the throne of the gods..."
"Praise you, merciful spirit!"
The young boys and girls ignored the Compassionate People and dispersed in all directions, flying in different directions. Wherever they flew over, they were covered by white mist. Even the green miasma of the miasma forest turned into white mist.
"The gods are in trouble and need more sacrifices to recover..."
The boys and girls exchanged glances, then resolutely flew out of the miasma forest.
There are too few practitioners in Ciguang Swamp, and more sacrifices are needed!
The gods don't need believers now, they only need sacrifices!
…
…
A disaster struck the living city.
All the spiritual masters who saw the white mist lost their minds and rushed madly towards the Ci Guang Swamp, allowing their bodies to be swallowed by the swamp, with intoxicated and satisfied smiles on their faces, as if they were participating in some sacred ritual.
The white fog lasted for seven days and seven nights.
On the eighth day, the fog dissipated like a tide.
"What's wrong with the Ci Guang tribe? Why would they suddenly leave the swamp?" Above the City Lord's Mansion, a dignified-looking man looked solemnly in the direction of the Ci Guang Swamp.
Behind the man stood a young man in red, holding a folding fan. The young man looked relaxed and casually speculated, "Who knows? Maybe there's something wrong with the gods they believe in?"
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