My mind snapped to attention, instantly sensing something was amiss. I stopped dead, watching Old Li for any reaction. But the moment I paused, Old Li’s expression smoothed out; he stared back at me silently, the look of desperate appeal vanished without a trace.

This… was strange, truly strange. I paused to think, then my thoughts drifted to Zhuoma Yangjin—was she alive or dead? The instant her image flashed in my mind, showing her speaking to me in the Shengtai tomb chamber, the figure of Old Li before me began to recede, and Zhuoma Yangjin’s likeness actually materialized. Her face was a canvas of bruises, purple and blue, her beautiful eyes devoid of light. Her clothes were tattered rags, clinging wetly and messily to her body as she lay desperately beside a rushing river, the spray occasionally hitting her clothes, her face…

Worry seized me. In this cold, she would surely die like that. I immediately shouted, “Yangjin! It’s Luo Lian!”

Hearing my cry, a flicker of light seemed to return to Zhuoma Yangjin’s eyes. She struggled to stand, but the slightest movement brought a look of intense pain to her face, likely from her wounds being pulled. This only deepened her suffering, and she gazed at me with a pained, almost tearful expression.

My heart ached, unable to bear the thought of such suffering for a young woman like Zhuoma Yangjin. I quickly reached out to pull her up. But as my hand extended, a cool draft brushed past, and the confusion in my mind instantly cleared. No, this isn't right. I forced myself to steady my spirit, ignoring Old Li and Zhuoma Yangjin alike. I closed my eyes, plopped down onto the ground, and focused on sorting out my thoughts.

I had a glimmer of a lead initially, but the moment I thought of Zhuoma Yangjin, my concentration shattered… Forget it, I wouldn't chase that thread for now. The real question was, why did whoever I thought of immediately appear before me? Was this an illusion? Or was there some magical artifact capable of telepathy, sensing my thoughts and manifesting the condition of the person involved for me to see? Both seemed possible, but… if it was an illusion, that was one thing. But what if it was real! Wouldn't that mean I was watching Zhuoma Yangjin and Old Li suffer, utterly unable to help? Old Li was perhaps better off; he had some foundation. But Zhuoma Yangjin—she was just a girl, in that condition, surrounded by desolation—she would die if she didn't freeze first…

It was over, all over. My mind was completely scrambled… I repeatedly beat my own head, hoping to clear my vision enough to analyze what I was seeing, but… no use, no use. It was too chaotic… I couldn’t grasp a single coherent thought, all while worrying sick about Old Li and Zhuoma Yangjin.

We were underground in the ruins of Guge. Anything magical could happen here. It wasn’t impossible that some mysterious power was trying to convey their situation to me. But… what good was knowing, when I didn't even know where I was? My own survival was uncertain. How could I help them, how could I save the near-dead Zhuoma Yangjin?

I finally understood the meaning of having the will but lacking the strength. I listlessly opened my eyes. Old Li and Zhuoma Yangjin remained just a meter or two away. Unlike before, Old Li was almost pressed against Zhuoma Yangjin, their images slightly intertwined, yet I could still sense them clearly—yes, sense them—their despair and pain, the intense, desperate hope that I would come to their aid.

My head began to throb as if pierced by needles. I grabbed my hair stubble and pulled hard, trying to shock myself awake, but it was useless. The images of Old Li and Zhuoma Yangjin became clearer and clearer before me; I could even feel their breathing.

“Ahhh~~~~~” I could bear it no longer, letting out a yell and standing up, intending to slam my head against something—this place surely had jagged rock formations or cave walls somewhere. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I actually saw a smooth cave wall, intricately smooth. My head hurt terribly; I couldn't think about it anymore, and I drove my head straight toward it.

I held back from using full force; I only needed a jolt of pain to clear my head. Indeed, the impact was perfectly judged—it didn't injure me seriously, but the pain was just enough of a stimulus to quell the chaos in my head.

“Good, didn’t knock anything loose,” I muttered, rubbing my head.

My mind felt clearer. Looking back at Old Li and Zhuoma Yangjin, they seemed less desperate, no longer entirely dependent on me for salvation.

I tiptoed toward them, attempting to genuinely touch one of them. This time, I walked very slowly, very softly, because when I rushed over before, they always remained just out of reach. Walking slowly now, I shouldn't disturb them.

As expected, I reached Old Li first and grabbed him firmly. Then I reached down and pulled him up. He looked at me with utter gratitude, grasping my hand as he stood. He remained mostly silent, just offering me a brief smile. Brothers didn’t need many words; I understood his gratitude and nodded slightly. I pointed toward Zhuoma Yangjin beside him, and Old Li understood, turning to help her up.

Zhuoma Yangjin saw Old Li first, surprise mixed with joy on her face. She said nothing else, but immediately asked Old Li about me, whether I was safe.

Old Li pointed to me behind him. Zhuoma Yangjin, unable to move, her eyes darted over and fixed on me, and tears began to stream down her face. “It’s good that you’re alright… so good that you’re alright,” she choked out.

Deeply moved, I hurried over to support her. Tibetan women are generally tall, and their weight naturally higher, but Zhuoma Yangjin felt much lighter than an average person; I lifted her with just one arm. She leaned naturally against my shoulder, eyes closed, weeping silently.

“It’s alright now,” I told Old Li and Zhuoma Yangjin. “As long as I’m here, you two just rest well. Once you’ve recovered, we’ll head back.”

Old Li nodded. Zhuoma Yangjin just kept crying, then, regardless of Old Li’s presence, cupped my face with both hands and examined me closely. She then took my hand, rolled up my sleeve, and checked for any wounds. Only when she saw I was completely unharmed did she breathe a sigh of relief, saying, “You really are fine. It’s good you’re fine.”

Her words made me instantly recall that I might have coughed up blood earlier, and there was blood on my lip. Could it be internal injury? Thinking of it, a faint ache returned to my chest—not obvious, perhaps there, perhaps not… I wasn’t certain.

Never mind. Right now, I seemed the only one relatively unharmed. Even if I was injured, I had to hold on; taking care of these two was the most important thing. So, supporting Zhuoma Yangjin, I led Old Li toward the cave wall where I had struck my head, helping them sit down to rest against the stone.

As soon as they sat, Old Li’s spirits lifted considerably. “Technician Luo, thank you. If it weren’t for you, no one would have known I died.” he said.

I quickly told him that as brothers, there was no need for such formality.

Zhuoma Yangjin remained quiet, leaning against my left shoulder, gazing at me with deep affection. She must have been the most severely injured. Tibet is not like other places; even in the hottest weather, one couldn’t withstand the river current, let alone now when it wasn't warm at all. “Are you cold? Should we try to change your clothes?” I said aloud, but inwardly, I wondered where I would find clean clothes for her. Old Li and I, two men, could each give her two layers, but would she be willing to wear them? Moreover, we ourselves weren't wearing much. It would be best to build a fire to warm up and dry Zhuoma Yangjin’s clothes so none of us would catch a chill.

That was what I hoped, but I knew perfectly well we were unlikely to have the means to start a fire. No fantastical bonfire appeared before me—which confirmed for me that Old Li and Zhuoma Yangjin weren't illusions or anything else supernatural. Rather, there was some mysterious power here, one that could traverse time and space, allowing me to directly save them.

I was tired too. I had fallen down in a daze; I didn't even know if I had internal injuries. Even though saving Old Li and Zhuoma Yangjin hadn't required much effort, I felt utterly exhausted, especially my head, which was fuzzy and completely unable to focus.

“I think I need to sleep for a bit…” I told Zhuoma Yangjin, who was leaning on my shoulder. She immediately moved aside considerately, sat up straight, patted her own shoulder, and said softly, “Lean on my shoulder and sleep.”

How could that be acceptable! Especially with Old Li present—how embarrassing. I stole a glance at Old Li; he seemed not to have heard her words, his face blank, lost in thought.

I was actually curious to know what it felt like to sleep resting on a woman’s shoulder, but I had to refuse Zhuoma Yangjin. She was injured, after all, and likely covered in wounds—ah, I wasn’t in a position to examine her properly or even apply simple bandaging.

“Lean on my shoulder,” Zhuoma Yangjin insisted, patting her own shoulder again, smiling softly.

I shook my head and smiled. “Never mind, I’m not that sleepy. I’ll just doze a little.” Saying that, I truly closed my eyes, sitting upright and still.

Zhuoma Yangjin didn't press further, offering a slight smile as she leaned against the cave wall to rest herself. Old Li remained deep in thought—though my eyes were closed, I could clearly sense their every move.

“We need to rest first, otherwise, it’s pitch dark here, and if some monster shows up, it’ll be trouble. All three of us will be sitting ducks.” My brain was still a bit muddled, but I forced myself to relax and rest, constantly repeating mental reassurances.

Slowly, my mind began to ease, but as soon as I relaxed, thoughts of Zhuoma Yangjin’s severe injuries, Old Li’s weakness, and the fact that I was in this unknown space—whether I could bring them back to the reality of normal time and space—made me agitated again.

Especially Zhuoma Yangjin, her clothes so ragged and soaked from the river. Without a fire to dry them, how long could she last? Frustration, frustration!