7: Chapter 7 Hopeless

The thick mist was like congealed grease, pressing heavily on everyone's shoulders.

The path down the mountain was hidden amidst tangled roots, trees, and even deeper fog.

Relying on lingering memories, Old Zhang the driver led the way, each step exceptionally difficult.

It was as if the mud beneath their feet had a suction force, making a sticky sound with every step.

All around was a vast expanse of white; only a few feet beneath their feet were barely discernible.

"F*ck! What the hell is that talking?"

A curse rang out from the back of the group.

"Shut up!"

Ding Qing paused in his tracks.

The omnipresent whispering hadn't vanished; instead, it felt like viscous spider silk, wrapping around their ears and burrowing into their minds.

It was no longer just simple noise.

At times it sounded like a faint calling of names, and at others, it turned into unintelligible weeping or cold laughter, leaving everyone agitated.

Ding Qing walked near the front of the middle section of the group.

He was like a silent monolith, suppressing the restless hearts of everyone present.

Tense muscle lines were faintly visible beneath his thin clothes, and the dark veins on his neck had not yet fully receded.

His gaze was as sharp as an eagle's.

Most of the time, he stared intently at Old Zhang's blurry back ahead and the path beneath his feet.

Occasionally, he would suddenly scan the walls of mist on either side.

That look carried a blade-like warning, making those nearby instinctively lower their heads even further.

The oppressive atmosphere was almost suffocating.

Everyone was like a string stretched to its limit, constantly eroded and pulled by the thick mist and whispers.

Suddenly, a sob, suppressed to the point of being out of tune, rang out from the middle of the line.

It was the boy who had been supporting Zhao Xiaoya all along; his name was Li Feng.

He stopped abruptly, his body trembling violently.

"No... that's not right... not that way..."

He stared blankly into the depths of the thick mist in a certain direction, his pupils dilated as if he had seen something.

"The voice... it's... it's calling me from over there... Mom... Mom is calling me to go home..."

His voice suddenly rose, filled with an eerie urgency and joy.

"Li Feng! Look down, don't look!"

Teacher Huang growled hoarsely, reaching out to pull him.

But it was too late.

Li Feng suddenly broke free from Zhao Xiaoya's hand and, like an arrow leaving a bow, plunged headlong into the impenetrable wall of mist on the right!

His figure was instantly swallowed by the pale mist.

Only a series of short, cut-off footsteps remained before he vanished completely.

"Li Feng—!"

Zhao Xiaoya let out a short scream.

Immediately after, she was choked by immense fear, leaving only the sound of terrified gasps.

Everyone froze in place, instinctively looking toward the direction where Li Feng had disappeared.

"You still dare to look!"

Ding Qing shouted, jolting the others into forcing their heads down; their hearts pounded wildly, and cold sweat instantly drenched their backs.

"Brother Qing! He... Li Feng rushed in!"

Wang Yang's eyes widened.

The others, including Teacher Huang, also looked toward Ding Qing with a final sliver of hope and instinctive fear.

He was the only hope, the only one capable of protecting the others.

"Please, save him... I beg you..."

Zhao Xiaoya pleaded, fighting back tears.

"Student Ding Qing..."

Huang Guohua raised his hand but didn't have the courage to continue.

Ding Qing's footsteps didn't falter for a second.

His cold gaze lingered on the wall of mist where Li Feng had disappeared for less than half a second.

The thick mist churned like a pale, giant maw that had just snapped shut.

"He can't be saved."

Ding Qing's voice was resolute, devoid of any inflection, like a piece of ice dropped into a deep pool.

"The mist is too thick, and the direction is unclear. Rushing in is just a death sentence, and it might even attract other 'things'."

His gaze swept across everyone's panicked and despairing faces; there wasn't a hint of wavering in his eyes, only a nearly cruel level of clarity.

"Taking you this far is already my limit. If you want to live, watch your eyes and your legs. In a place like this, no one is worth me gambling my own life."

He paused, his voice deepening with the weight of an unquestionable iron law.

There was no hesitation, no superfluous comfort.

Ding Qing set off again, continuing along the small path.

His silhouette appeared taller and colder in the thick mist, like an unsheathed blade cutting through despair and severing all unrealistic fantasies.

Wang Yang opened his mouth.

He looked at the mist that had swallowed Li Feng, then at Ding Qing's cold, hard profile, and followed closely behind.

Huang Guohua wiped the cold sweat and blood from his face with hands trembling like withered leaves, the last glimmer of light in his cloudy eyes completely extinguished.

Only numb fear remained as he mechanically moved his feet.

Zhao Xiaoya covered her mouth tightly, silent tears gushing out.

"Xiaoya, it's okay, it's okay!"

"Ding Qing, you bastard! You're just standing by and watching him die. Why won't you save him if you have the ability?!"

The boy next to Zhao Xiaoya roared with all his might.

He was like a dog barking in impotent rage, disgusting to behold.

The thick mist was like congealed milk, so viscous it was suffocating.

Ding Qing's cold "He can't be saved" seemed to still echo in the damp, cold air, weighing heavily on everyone's chests.

The group was deathly silent, save for heavy breathing and the rustle of soles crushing wet blades of grass.

However, the male student who had questioned Ding Qing—Zhao Qiang—had a face flushed bright red and a chest heaving violently, clearly unable to accept this answer.

"You're just watching him die!"

He suddenly raised his voice, his cracking roar sounding exceptionally piercing in the thick mist.

"If you have the ability to lead us out, why can't you pull him back? You're f*cking cold-blooded!"

Ding Qing's footsteps stopped.

He didn't turn around, but slowly—extremely slowly—turned his body sideways.

His usually expressionless face was now covered with a layer of frost.

His gaze was like a blade tempered in ice, pinning itself precisely onto Zhao Qiang's face.

There was no anger, no defense.

Only a bottomless scrutiny and... evaluation.

The air instantly froze; even the thick mist seemed to stop flowing.

The invisible pressure made Zhao Qiang instinctively take half a step back, his throat tightening.

Just as Ding Qing's hand seemed to drop casually toward a hidden spot at his waist, Wang Yang's heart leaped into his throat.

He knew all too well what that look meant.

That was the look of a hunter locking onto prey, measuring its value!

With a jolt, Wang Yang practically lunged forward, gripping Ding Qing's thigh tightly.

"Brother! Dad! Dear father! Stay calm! You absolutely cannot do it! Think clearly!"

He gripped Ding Qing's thigh hard, whispering incoherently.

"Outside! It's not another world out there! Think of the consequences... once everyone gets out, it'll be over! Your whole life will be ruined!"

Ding Qing's muscles were as tense as stones under Wang Yang's restraint. His cold gaze swept across Wang Yang's face, which was contorted from extreme tension, before finally landing back on Zhao Qiang.

Zhao Qiang felt his skin crawl under the gaze.

That reckless rage felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over it, leaving only fear screaming in his marrow.

His lips trembled; he wanted to say more, but couldn't utter a single word.

Time flowed in a suffocating silence.

Zhao Xiaoya had already curled into a ball, holding her breath, wishing she could merge into the damp mountain wall.

And then, the impenetrable white mist seemed to be controlled by some force, eerily surging and parting for a brief moment!

Less than ten meters ahead at a bend in the mountain path, a stiff figure abruptly appeared.

It was Li Feng, who had just gone missing!

He stood there with his back to the group, poised in an extremely unnatural posture.

His arms hung at his sides, his head slightly tilted, motionless like an abandoned stone statue covered in condensation.

Mist flowed and gathered around the edges of his silhouette, as if ready to swallow him whole again at any moment.

The color instantly drained from Zhao Qiang's face.

All his anger and questioning froze on his face, leaving only a dull, dazed look gripped by immense terror.

He stared intently at that figure radiating endless eeriness.

His entire body began to shake like a sieve, the sound of his teeth chattering clearly audible.

Ding Qing's gaze slowly moved away from that frozen back.

It landed once more on Zhao Qiang's pale face; his mouth seemed to twitch downward ever so slightly, and he gave a soft snort.

"Now," he paused, every word carrying the rasp of grinding metal, "who's going?"