Longevity Martial Arts: Obtain Golden Affixes at the Start

Hong Lang was taken aback for a moment, then understood what she meant.

This is because I'm worried about him.

He grinned, though Mo Qiushui couldn't see him in the darkness: "I'm not cold. I can roll around in the snow shirtless and it'll be fine."

Mo Qiushui did not respond.

Hong Lang leaned against the rock wall, closed his eyes, and began to lose consciousness.

His body was too tired. No matter how energetic he was, he couldn't withstand a whole day of high-intensity exertion.

As soon as he stopped, drowsiness surged up like a tide, engulfing him completely.

In a half-dreaming, half-awake state, he felt something approaching.

It was very light and slow, like a tentative exploration or a hesitation.

A warm body pressed against his arm.

Mo Qiushui rested her head on his shoulder, her body slightly turned to the side, her broken leg carefully placed aside, as if she had found a harbor where she could temporarily dock.

"You're... really hot." Her voice was very soft, almost drowned out by the wind.

Hong Lang was silent for a moment, then reached out and gently put his arm around her shoulder.

"Don't overthink it, it's just for warmth."

Mo Qiushui did not answer.

Her breathing gradually became even, and her body slowly relaxed. She leaned softly against him, like a cat that had finally let down its guard.

In the darkness, Hong Lang also closed his eyes.

The next morning, Honglang was awakened by the sunlight.

A golden ray of light squeezed in from between the rocks and hit his face, making him squint.

He opened his eyes and found Mo Qiushui still leaning in his arms, sleeping peacefully. Her lips were no longer purple and had returned to their normal color, and her cheeks even had a bit more rosy.

Her injured leg lay aside; the swelling seemed to have subsided somewhat, but it was still quite swollen.

The floodwaters remained still.

He sat there, watching the ray of light slowly widen from between the rocks, changing from gold to white.

When Mo Qiushui woke up, the first thing she saw was Hong Lang's Adam's apple.

She froze for a moment, then suddenly sat up straight. The movement was so sudden that it aggravated her injured leg, causing her to gasp in pain.

"What's your rush?" Hong Lang was startled by her sudden question. "Don't you want your legs anymore?"

Mo Qiushui turned her face away, her ears turning red, and her voice returned to its icy tone: "It's time to go."

Hong Lang didn't say much, but stood up and stretched his muscles.

The phrase "[Dragon Spirit and Tiger Might]" is truly remarkable. After a good night's sleep, I've regained most of my strength. Although my left shoulder injury still hurts, it's not as excruciating as it was yesterday.

"Let's go." He squatted down and patted his back.

Mo Qiushui glanced at him, and this time without hesitation, she knelt down.

The canyon bends ahead, the mountain walls suddenly become lower, and the snow is much thinner.

Hong Lang quickened his pace; he had a premonition that the exit was near.

Sure enough, after walking for less than half an hour, the view ahead suddenly opened up.

We've made it out of the cliff.

Hong Lang stood at the mouth of the canyon, breathing in the fresh air in large gulps, feeling a sense of dazed relief, as if he had survived a catastrophe.

Mo Qiushui, lying on his back, also raised her head and looked into the distance.

The world was a vast expanse of white, with the snowfield stretching to the horizon and merging with the gray-white sky, making it impossible to distinguish where the earth ended and the sky began.

There was no human habitation, no villages, and no sign of life.

"Where is this?" Mo Qiushui asked.

Hong Lang glanced back at the canyon behind him, then looked at the surrounding terrain, and shook his head: "I don't know, but it's definitely south of Tianmu City. The place where we fell is Eagle Beak Cliff. If we fall south, it shouldn't be far from the official road."

How did you know?

"The wind," Hong Lang said. "The wind in the canyon always blows from north to south, which means the south is the exit. If we follow the wind, we'll get out."

Mo Qiushui paused for a moment, then said, "You're very observant."

"That's right, otherwise how would I have survived until now?"

As he was speaking, he suddenly listened intently, then turned his head and gazed at a snowy road in the distance.

"There's a sound," he said softly.

Mo Qiushui also listened intently.

Faintly, the sound of bells could be heard from afar, tinkling and echoing across the vast snowfield, like some kind of signal.

Hong Lang carried Mo Qiushui in that direction for a while, then went around a grove of low trees, and suddenly the view opened up.

A caravan is slowly making its way along the snowy road.

A dozen or so mules lined up, their backs bulging with goods, their hooves leaving deep and shallow craters in the snow.

The mules and horses wore copper bells around their necks, which jingled with every step they took, sounding particularly crisp on the silent snowfield.

The caravan was guarded by seven or eight men, with knives at their waists and thick sheepskin coats. The white breath they exhaled condensed into a cloud of mist in front of them.

At the head of the caravan was a mule cart with a man in his forties, with thick eyebrows and big eyes, wearing a fur cloak. He looked like the caravan leader.

He narrowed his eyes, looked Hong Lang up and down, and then saw Mo Qiushui on Hong Lang's back.

Although her clothes were tattered and her face was covered in dust, Mo Qiushui's face and overall demeanor were far beyond what an ordinary woman could possess.

The man immediately jumped down from the mule cart, cupped his hands in a respectful gesture, and said, "My name is Chen Bo'an. Have you two encountered any trouble?"

Seeing that the other party had taken the initiative to be friendly, Hong Lang felt a little more at ease. He placed Mo Qiushui on a rock to lean against, turned around and clasped his hands in return: "Manager Chen has a good eye. Yesterday, we two encountered a snowstorm in the mountains, got lost, and injured our legs. We were trapped in this snowy place all night and were worried about not being able to find a way out."

Chen Bo'an frowned as he looked at Mo Qiushui's injured leg, then immediately turned around and called out, "Old Liu! Bring the medicine! And boil some more water!"

Then he turned to Hong Lang and said sincerely, "In this freezing weather, a leg injury is no joke. I have a doctor in my caravan. He's not a famous doctor, but he's good at treating sprains and bruises."

Hong Lang glanced at Mo Qiushui, and seeing her nod slightly, he clasped his hands and said, "Thank you, Manager Chen. I'll take my leave then."

Chen Bo'an waved his hand: "Everyone has their difficulties when they're traveling. Don't be so polite."

He called over two guards, who carefully lifted Mo Qiushui onto the mule cart and then took out a blanket from the cart to cover her legs.

Hong Lang watched from the side and saw that Chen Bo'an did a thorough and meticulous job, which made him feel more favorably toward him.

The caravan continued on its way, and Hong Lang and Chen Bo'an chatted casually.

"If we hadn't met you today, the two of us probably wouldn't have lasted much longer on this snowy plain."

Chen Bo'an laughed and waved his hand, saying, "You're being too polite. I, Chen Bo'an, have traveled all over the country for twenty years, and the thing I can't stand the most is seeing someone fall on the road."

That year, I was running a cargo business in Northwest China and almost froze to death on the Gobi Desert. A passing camel caravan saved me.

From then on, I made a rule: as long as I, Chen Bo'an, am still on the road, if I encounter someone in distress, I will lend a helping hand if I can.

"Manager Chen is a man of great loyalty and affection."

"Forget about loyalty and friendship, it's just about treating others as you would like to be treated. By the way, I still don't know how to address you, young brother?"

His surname is Hong, and his given name is Lang.

Chen Bo'an handed over a gourd of wine, which Hong Lang took and gulped down.

The liquor went down his throat like a burning line from his throat straight to his stomach, making him wince and hiss involuntarily.

"That's strong liquor."

Chen Bo'an laughed heartily, took the gourd of wine and took a swig, then wiped his mouth: "Northern liquor, 62 degrees, if it's not strong, can it be called liquor? One sip of this stuff, and it burns from your throat to your navel, and your whole body feels like it's on fire. It's more effective than any clothes."

Hong Lang smacked his lips. After the spiciness subsided, a mellow aroma of grain rose up, warming his entire chest.

"It's definitely a good product."

Chen Bo'an patted the wine gourd proudly: "This was brewed by my wife herself. Every year before winter, she would pack three big gourds for me, saying that it would keep me warm on the road."

I told her, "Why don't you just open a winery?" She replied, "What winery? I'll just brew wine for you alone."

As he said this, his thick eyebrows and big eyes were full of smiles, and his rugged face softened a bit.

Hong Lang took another sip of wine and asked, "I wonder which way Manager Chen is headed?"