Longevity Martial Arts: Obtain Golden Affixes at the Start

Hong Lang pretended not to hear and focused on turning the branch.

"It's almost done." Hong Lang took the rabbit off the fire, blew on it to cool it down, tore off a rabbit leg, and handed it to Mo Qiushui.

Mo Qiushui took the rabbit leg, took a bite, and found it crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, with a perfect balance of saltiness. Moreover, this rabbit seemed to have a trace of demonic blood, as she could feel a warm current gathering in her stomach after eating it.

"Did you add salt?" Mo Qiushui asked curiously.

"I always carry it with me." Hong Lang pulled a small cloth bag from his pocket and waved it in front of her. "When you're traveling, salt is life. Without salt, even the best food tastes like chewing wood."

As he spoke, he tore off another rabbit leg and began to eat it in large bites. His ravenous eating style made Mo Qiushui unable to resist taking a few more bites as well.

The two of them sat in the snow, tending the campfire, sharing a wild rabbit.

The wind rushed in from the mouth of the canyon, making the flames sway wildly, but Hong Lang blocked the wind with his body, and Mo Qiushui sat by the fire without feeling too cold.

She lowered her head, took a bite of rabbit meat, and chewed it slowly.

The meat was very fragrant; it was the most fragrant roasted rabbit she had ever eaten.

Maybe it was because she was hungry, or maybe it was for some other reason; she couldn't say.

Mo Qiushui chewed on the rabbit meat, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hong Lang eating with his mouth full of oil. Suddenly, she remembered something.

"County Lieutenant Hong, how long have you been cultivating?"

Hong Lang continued tearing at the rabbit leg, and mumbled a reply, "A few months, I guess."

"...A few months?"

"Hmm." Hong Lang swallowed a large mouthful of meat and nodded matter-of-factly. "I don't remember exactly, but it was less than half a year ago."

Mo Qiushui stared at him for a long time, as if to confirm whether he was joking.

In less than half a year, he went from an ordinary person to a minor mastery of the Marrow Cleansing Realm.

She put down the rabbit leg: "What... grade of martial arts bone do you have?"

"A seventh-rank rank."

Seventh rank? Mo Qiushui remained silent for a moment.

She possessed a sixth-grade martial bone and spent six years cultivating diligently, day and night, before finally reaching the peak of the Marrow Cleansing Realm.

And this guy roasting rabbit in the snow, with a seventh-grade martial bone, achieved minor success in marrow cleansing in less than half a year.

Martial arts skills range from ninth rank to first rank, with ninth rank being the worst and first rank being the best.

A fourth-rank is already considered genius, and those above fourth rank are extremely rare. As for first rank, those are the qualifications of legendary founders who established their own sects.

But the speed of the torrent was clearly not what one would expect from a seventh-rank official.

Mo Qiushui looked up at Hong Lang, the firelight reflecting on his face, making him appear somewhat unfathomable.

"You..." she hesitated, choosing her words carefully, "Did you have some kind of extraordinary encounter?"

"you guess."

Mo Qiushui didn't ask any more questions.

The campfire cast the shadows of two people on the mountainside, one tall and one short, very close together.

After finishing the meal, Hong Lang stomped out the campfire and buried the rabbit bones and scraps with snow.

He did these things very carefully, as if he were handling some shady business.

"Let's go." He dusted off his hands, walked over to Mo Qiushui, and squatted down. "Get on."

Mo Qiushui looked at his back and hesitated for a moment.

His clothes were torn in several places during yesterday's rolling, revealing a large bruise, which was caused by a slap from that tall, masked man.

The injury to his left shoulder was more severe; his entire shoulder was swollen high, like an overripe peach.

"Your shoulder..." Mo Qiushui began.

"It's alright." Hong Lang interrupted her, turning to grin at her. "If you don't come up soon, it'll get dark. If we can't find a way out before dark, we'll have to spend the night in the mountains again. Then you'll have to take off your clothes, and I'll have to..."

"Shut up." Mo Qiushui leaned against his back.

The floodwaters surged forward along the valley floor, their feet resting on soft snow and loose stones.

The light on the two mountain walls was slowly changing.

The sky is changing color.

They had been walking in the canyon for a whole afternoon.

Mo Qiushui lay on his back and could feel his breathing change from steady to heavy, and then from heavy to rapid.

His back was wet, the sweat soaking through his clothes, then freezing into ice crystals in the cold wind, sticking hard to his body.

"Put me down."

This was the third time Mo Qiushui had said this.

Hong Lang didn't stop or turn around, but just said, panting, "Save your energy, stop nagging."

Mo Qiushui was silent for a moment: "You're already trembling."

"It's cold."

You're covered in sweat.

That means I'm hot.

"..."

Mo Qiushui stopped speaking.

She turned her head to look at Hong Lang's profile.

There were several scratches on his cheeks, the blood had congealed into dark red lines, which looked rather shocking when soaked with sweat.

His lips were pressed tightly together, and his eyes were fixed straight ahead.

The expression on his face didn't look like he was in a hurry; it looked more like he was struggling with something.

Hong Lang is indeed putting up a fight.

His strength was rapidly waning, and the wound on his left shoulder felt like a red-hot iron rod stuck in his bone, churning with every step he took, causing him waves of pain that made his vision go black.

But he dared not stop.

If you stop, the cold air will rush in from all directions.

He himself wasn't afraid of the cold, but Mo Qiushui was.

Her injured leg cannot withstand another frost. If the wound is damaged by frost, it is hard to say whether the leg can be saved.

Moreover, it was getting dark.

There is no moon or starlight in the canyon. Once night falls, it is pitch black, and you won't be able to find your way or even tell the depth of the water under your feet.

Falling down is nothing, but if Mo Qiushui's broken leg gets hit again, that would be a real problem.

So he could only walk, and keep walking.

The phrase "[Dragon Spirit and Tiger Might]" was desperately trying to stay afloat, like a never-ending engine, continuously channeling energy back into his almost completely drained body.

Mo Qiushui did not speak again.

She lay quietly on his back, listening to his heavy breathing and feeling his increasingly slow steps.

A strange feeling suddenly welled up in her heart.

This person could have easily abandoned her.

It can be done in a cave, or in a canyon.

He traveled alone, lightly equipped, and given his physical strength and recovery ability, he would have likely made it out long ago.

Mo Qiushui closed her eyes and gently pressed her face against Hong Lang's shoulder.

His shoulders were broad and hard, so hard they hurt my face, but they were warm.

After another hour of walking, it was completely dark.

The floodwaters had to stop.

It's not because I can't walk anymore, it's because I really can't see anymore.

The canyon was as black as an overturned pot, so dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. The path under your feet completely disappeared into the darkness, and you couldn't even see your own toes.

"We need to find a place to spend the night," Hong Lang said, panting.

He walked along the mountain wall in the dark, supporting Mo Qiushui with one hand behind him and feeling his way forward with the other, his fingertips touching the cold rocks as he explored inch by inch.

After walking for about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, his hand suddenly touched a dent.

It is a rock crevice.

It wasn't big, but it was more spacious than the cave from last night; at least you could stretch your legs and lie down.

Hong Lang put Mo Qiushui down and let her sit against the rock wall. Then he went to move stones to block the cave entrance in the dark.

He couldn't see anything in the darkness, so he could only grope around by feeling. He moved a few stones and piled them up at the entrance of the cave, and then scooped up some snow from the ground and pasted it between the rocks.

The wind has subsided considerably.

Hong Lang sat down against the rock wall on the other side and let out a long breath.

All the aches and pains in my body surged up at that moment, and every joint was creaking.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"...I'm not hungry." Mo Qiushui's voice came from the darkness.

"You're lying." Hong Lang laughed. "How much of that rabbit did you eat at noon? I ate most of it."

"You've done a lot of work, so you should eat more."

There was a moment of silence.

"County Lieutenant Hong," Mo Qiushui suddenly spoke.

"Um?"

"Are you...cold?"