The charming widow of the Marquis's mansion: The stable boy carries the flag and raises the dra

"Anyway, there's no rush, right?"

Dazhu's expression looked somewhat distorted.

Wang Long's gaze shifted from the fog to the path ahead, which was completely swallowed by the thick fog.

He could sense that the layer of whitish-gray mist was not ordinary mountain vapor; it carried a dense resistance as it approached him.

It's like an invisible film is stuck to the skin's surface, but it quietly slides off the moment it comes into contact with the righteous energy.

The literary energy flowed gently within him, keeping out the dampness and chaos that tried to invade his senses.

The fog seemed to have a life of its own, deliberately spreading out just as they were about to find their way out.

Dazhu, however, seemed completely unaware of anything unusual.

He stood a few steps away in the fog, his figure already somewhat blurred, yet he patiently waited for their response.

Ye Niannu also turned her head and glanced at Wang Long.

She didn't speak, but there was no need for words to communicate between them.

Ye Niannu gently raised her chin and pointed to the woodland shrouded in mist on both sides of the road.

Having come all this way, how could we possibly turn back now?

Today we must unravel the secret of this paradise.

Wang Long withdrew his gaze, nodded to Dazhu, and spoke calmly.

"Then let's go back to the village first and talk again when the fog clears. Thank you for your help."

Dazhu grinned, as if he had breathed a sigh of relief, and turned to walk back the way he came.

His pace remained unhurried, completely unconcerned about the eerie, thick fog that filled the sky.

Wang Long followed behind him, took a few steps, and then suddenly stopped.

He turned his head and said something to Ye Niannu, his voice not loud, but it just reached Dazhu's ears.

"I left something on the road. I'll go back and look for it."

Ye Niannu immediately understood and stopped, calling out to Dazhu's retreating figure.

"Dazhu, you go back first. We'll go get the lost things and then go back on our own."

Dazhu turned around in the fog, his blurred face showing a hint of curiosity, but he didn't ask any questions, only responding with a sound.

"Okay, then don't go too far. It's easy to get lost in the fog. If you can't find your way, come back first. Don't go deep into the woods."

Dazhu walked a long way until he could no longer see Wang Long and Ye Niannu. His head spun around strangely several times.

His eyes gleamed with a bloodthirsty red light, and his mouth stretched to his ears in a chilling grin.

It then disappeared into the thick fog.

The two stood there for a while, until Dazhu's footsteps could no longer be heard, and only thick fog and silence remained around them.

Wang Longcai turned around and his gaze fell on the edge of the woodland shrouded in mist on the side of the road.

While walking, he vaguely sensed a faint energy fluctuation in that direction, as if it were being suppressed by something.

Ye Niannu also abandoned her casual demeanor, her peach blossom eyes showing a slight hardening.

She placed her hand on the hilt of the spirit sword at her waist, her fingertips gently tracing the patterns on the guard.

"This fog must have seeped up from underground."

Ye Niannu analyzed in a low voice.

"It's not a change in the weather, it's more like the breath exhaled by something."

Wang Long nodded, not denying it.

He raised his hand, a wisp of golden spiritual energy condensing at his fingertips, and gently swept it across the mist ahead.

That wisp of literary elegance, like a drop of ink thrown into water, silently disappeared into the thick, grayish-white fog.

It spread out on the spot, temporarily dispersing the surrounding fog in an area of ​​about three feet square.

At the edge of the literary aura, a faint blue light could be seen shining through the soil beneath their feet.

Wang Long bent down, squatted down, and reached out to brush away the layer of damp fallen leaves and loose soil, revealing a palm-sized stone slab.

Several winding lines are carved on the surface of the stone slab; though the lines are shallow, they exude an ancient and rustic feel.

The lines lit up slightly as Wang Long's righteous aura approached, then dimmed again.

"There really is something there."

Ye Niannu also squatted down, her fingertips lightly hovering over the surface of the stone slab without directly touching it.

"This looks like a node in some kind of formation, and... it's extremely old."

She withdrew her hand and narrowed her eyes.

"I can't tell from what's been going on for so long..."

Wang Long silently cleaned the dirt off the stone slab and then felt around along the edge of the slab for a while.

About a foot to the left of the stone slab, another similar stone slab was found.

The patterns on the two stone slabs are faintly connected, like two sections of a huge vein.

He stood up, patted the dirt off his hands, and looked into the depths of the fog.

The thick fog that had been dispersed by the literary energy and then rejoined surged before him, like layers upon layers of gauze curtains.

Drawn by some unseen force, it always flows along a fixed trajectory.

Wang Long said in a deep voice.

"These mists can interfere with spiritual consciousness. They use these stone slabs as nodes to cover the entire perimeter of Peach Blossom Spring, so that anyone who tries to leave can only return to their starting point."

"And they don't seem to realize that anything is wrong."

Ye Niannu's expression was serious.

Their curiosity grew.

What is the purpose of these ordinary people being trapped in the Peach Blossom Spring? And why does it present a different scene at night?

Most importantly, are these villagers really human?

"My lord, can you break through the core of this formation?"

Ye Niannu squatted on the edge of the stone slab, looking at the white mist around her, feeling inexplicably irritable.

Wang Long did not answer immediately.

He stretched out his hand, his palm covering the surface of the second stone slab, and his righteous energy flowed into it like warm water.

The patterns on the stone slab did indeed brighten, gleaming with a very faint bluish light, as if it had been dormant for a long time but could only be awakened briefly.

But the light lasted for less than three breaths before it seemed to be sucked away from below by something, quickly dimming and disappearing along with the wisp of literary energy that Wang Long had injected.

He withdrew his hand, his gaze slightly somber.

"No, this formation is not based on spiritual energy. Although my righteous energy can dispel the black mist, it cannot affect the essence of this formation."

"It's more like... a fixed rule; as long as this land exists, the formation will not disappear."

Ye Niannu stood up, patted the fallen leaves and dirt off her skirt, and didn't seem surprised.

She raised her eyes and looked into the depths of the forest swallowed by the thick fog, her peach blossom eyes reflecting a thin layer of grayish-white.

"In that case, let's go back first and see if there are any places in the village that we haven't explored yet."

Wang Long nodded; he had thought of that too.

The two didn't say anything more and turned to walk back the way they came.

The thick fog slowly closed in behind them, once again engulfing the two bluestone slabs in a gray-white expanse.

When we returned to Peach Blossom Spring.

Several children were chasing each other on the bluestone path, their laughter ringing out.

Farmers are working on the ridges of the fields.

The elderly people at the village entrance were still sitting around playing chess, some of them still holding a chess piece in their hand, hesitant to make a move.

Wang Long and Ye Niannu were stunned by the sight.

Isn't this exactly the same scene as when I first arrived here?

When the children chasing them ran past, not one of them stopped or even glanced at them.

Ye Niannu stopped in her tracks, her eyebrows twitching slightly.

"They...don't remember us?"