Shen Zechuan failed to grasp hold of anything as the blood swallowed him up in the inundated sinkhole. The terror of drowning swept over him. He could not breathe. All he could do was struggle and look on helplessly as that faint light died out.  

“Shen Lanzhou—!” 

Xiao Chiye scooped up Shen Zechuan. Those sturdy shoulders of his could stand up against the assault of the storm. He brought with him the light of the blazing sun, and he used the strong wind to sweep this dark, gloomy world clean, dispelling the snowstorm. He was scorching hot, so scalding that there was no room for anything else around Shen Zechuan.