Chapter 44: The Ghost King and the Poor Student 09

Just as they slightly slowed down, the snowstorm rapidly approached, making both of them realize they couldn’t afford to waste any more time. They started running frantically again.

The sensation of being engulfed by a snowstorm wasn’t pleasant, and if it really caught up to them, they had no idea what would happen. Tang Bin was pulled by Cheng Hongyi and started running at full speed. It felt so fast that he thought they weren’t just running down the mountain but were in a race.

Despite this, Tang Bin still pushed himself to run as fast as he could, determined not to slow down. They ran down the mountain and headed toward the river, even though Cheng Hongyi had already found the shortest route down when they were still on the mountain. Despite that, the river still felt incredibly far away to Tang Bin.

By the end, he forgot how to breathe, his mind growing more and more foggy, and his steps grew heavier. He was slipping into a state of numbness.

However, despite his exhaustion, the wind and snow continued to follow relentlessly behind him, like an unavoidable force.

The earth was frozen, and the snow swirled in the air. Now that they had reached the plains, there was a moment when Tang Bin even felt as though the ice line was directly beneath their feet. The ground they passed over was completely covered in ice and snow.

The earth, covered in a blanket of snow, sank with every step. If they had started running more slowly, their movements would have been even more difficult.

Tang Bin’s brain was starved of oxygen, and his thoughts started to scatter. He couldn’t help but think: The escape for Lao Diao and the others must be even harder…

Finally, just when Tang Bin thought he couldn’t keep going, he saw the river far in the distance, cutting through the yellow and dark green fields.

But Tang Bin really couldn’t run anymore.

“Hang in there, it’s almost there,” Cheng Hongyi called from the front.

“Mm…” Tang Bin panted, struggling to catch his breath. It wasn’t that the original owner had poor stamina, it was that they had truly run an incredible distance.

Tang Bin felt like he couldn’t go any further. Since arriving in the human world, he had never done such an extreme physical activity before.

He even thought about letting Cheng Hongyi continue on without him. He could already see the river, and he wouldn’t get lost. Even if he were buried by the snowstorm, he just wanted to rest for a while.

Compared to him, Cheng Hongyi was in much better condition.

Especially after coming down from the mountain, Cheng Hongyi’s speed on the plains could almost be described as swift as the wind.

…It seems not only is he strong, but his endurance is excellent too…

As Tang Bin thought this, his vision changed… or rather, Cheng Hongyi changed.

—He stopped running, half-squatted in front of him, and with a voice that wasn’t entirely smooth but still loud enough, he said, “Get on, I’ll carry you.”

“Huh?”

…Such a long way, even one person running was exhausting, and Cheng Hongyi actually wanted to carry him?!

While he was in a daze, Cheng Hongyi suddenly pulled him. Tang Bin had already lost all strength, so with just a pull, he bent over. Since the two of them were already very close, it was almost instantaneous—Tang Bin ended up on Cheng Hongyi’s back. Cheng Hongyi’s arm scooped up his legs, and he continued running, carrying Tang Bin.

“I can see you’re about to collapse. Running like this will wear anyone out.”

Tang Bin heard Cheng Hongyi say.

“But… you’re also very tired…” Tang Bin replied, feeling completely lost and unsure of what to do, not daring to move.

He was afraid that any struggle from him would only burden Cheng Hongyi even more.

Strangely enough, despite being a male just over 100 kilograms and recently coming of age, Cheng Hongyi’s speed while carrying Tang Bin hadn’t decreased at all compared to earlier.

Even so, the biting cold wind howled past his face, and it felt as though the wind had blown directly into Tang Bin’s eyes. His eyes were red, the corners moist, and he felt like crying.

“You should put me down…”

“If you let me down and run ahead, I promise I’ll rest for a while and then catch up with you…”

Tang Bin’s voice was full of quiet sobs.

But Cheng Hongyi, running against the wind, seemed to completely ignore what Tang Bin was saying. His hand, gripping Tang Bin’s thigh, didn’t loosen in the slightest.

Time passed, and after what felt like an eternity, Cheng Hongyi finally reached the location of the river.

The river was wide, at least two or three hundred meters across. It wasn’t clear whether Cheng Hongyi had already figured out the location or if they had simply been lucky, but a long bridge connecting the two sides spanned the distance, not too far from them.

When they reached the river, Cheng Hongyi finally set Tang Bin down. Tang Bin had recovered somewhat, the sharp pain in his lungs gone, and the moment he hit the ground, he almost crawled toward the bridge in a desperate rush.

“I’ll check the situation. You rest here,” Tang Bin said, urging Cheng Hongyi to stay.

The system had given them three days of preparation time to repair a bridge, so he wanted to get there first and see what the situation was.

Cheng Hongyi slowed down, clearly needing a break.

If it had been anyone else, they might have thought Tang Bin, who immediately ran toward the river, wanted to cross alone, considering they had shared the burden together. But Cheng Hongyi seemed to have no such concerns. Breathing heavily, his pace didn’t slow down, and he walked slowly toward Tang Bin.

“Is it alright?” Cheng Hongyi asked.

“…This doesn’t seem to be our bridge,” Tang Bin replied.

As he approached the bridge, he immediately saw that it was an extremely rudimentary suspension bridge. The ropes weren’t even metal—they were thick hemp ropes twisted together.

The ropes were fixed to both riverbanks, with loops in the middle and wooden stakes placed in the loops as footrests. The wooden stakes hung precariously in midair, swaying constantly. Each stake was about one and a half steps apart. The middle section of the bridge had large gaps, with stretches of about 100 meters missing or broken, where there were either no stakes or where the stakes had cracked or broken, making it highly dangerous. Anyone who stepped on the unstable bridge could fall directly into the swift river below.

As for why Tang Bin said this wasn’t their bridge, it was because, right by his feet, there was a sign with two names: Wu Rui and Liu Jianjun.

He had learned these two names after spending three days with Lao Diao’s younger subordinates.

If Cheng Hongyi’s theory about the pairing was correct, then this was not their bridge.

Time was running out, and the frozen earth had already extended to the riverbank. Tang Bin didn’t have time to wonder why their names were carved into the ground. He scanned the area and, sure enough, spotted another bridge not too far from the current one.

“This is too much…” Tang Bin muttered.

The distance between each bridge wasn’t too far, maybe three to four hundred meters, but for two exhausted people who were also racing against time, it felt like malicious intent.

At this point, Cheng Hongyi had caught up and understood what was going on. They exchanged a glance, neither knowing what would happen if they crossed a bridge that wasn’t theirs.

But neither of them wanted to try.

“How about I go check the other bridge first? You stay here and wait for me!” Tang Bin said as he started running again.

He wanted Cheng Hongyi to rest, so now he was moving faster than a rabbit.

Cheng Hongyi didn’t stop him. After Tang Bin ran off, he scanned the area again and noticed another bridge on the other side.

By this time, the snow had started to fall again, and their vision was soon going to be obscured by the heavy snowfall. It would become even harder to find their bridge, so they had to hurry.

Cheng Hongyi immediately ran toward the other bridge.

Tang Bin got there first and saw that the sign on the bridge read “Huang Xiaomeng and Chen Jiayi.”

Chen Jiayi was Lao Diao’s real name. Tang Bin had heard Huang Xiaomeng mention it during an argument with him a couple of days ago.

It seemed his guess had been right.

By now, the riverbank was surrounded by snowflakes, and even the rope bridge showed signs of freezing, though it wasn’t fully blocking their view yet. Tang Bin looked down, but he couldn’t see the bridge anymore.

This seemed to be the first bridge.

Realizing this, Tang Bin turned around and ran back, passed the second bridge, and reached the third one, where Cheng Hongyi was waiting for him.

The wooden sign at Cheng Hongyi’s feet had two names carved on it—exactly their own.