Chapter 58: 058

The sky, which had been bathed in brilliant sunshine just moments before, suddenly darkened.

The fierce sea wind grew even more violent, carrying the thick, briny stench of the ocean. Song Guiya’s piercing warning cry seemed frail and insignificant before the fury of nature; the wind swept it away as it passed.

In the distance, massive deep-blue waves rose like sea beasts bursting free from their cages, revealing their terrifying visages. Roaring and bellowing, they crashed down in an overwhelming deluge onto the fragile edges of the sea island, swallowing half its land in an instant.

Vast swathes of forest were uprooted like withered onions, joining the animals that had no chance to flee as they became fodder for the tsunami.

It was as if a colossal beast, starved for a thousand years, had lost all restraint the moment it sighted food—greedily and brutally devouring everything in its path.

This one-sided rampage and slaughter raged for a full hour before finally beginning to subside.

Song Guiya stood atop the waterfall cliff, gazing down at the still-churning waters below. Her expression was unreadable.

The pool, the bamboo house, the stove—all had been obliterated by the immense force, reduced to utter ruin.

Even that majestic, roaring waterfall now trickled past her feet like a docile stream, flowing with cautious gentleness.

Song Guiya turned and glanced at the two men slumped on the ground, their faces ashen with terror. “Let’s go,” she said flatly.

They were none other than Liang Jie, who had gone off in search of the others, and Little Sun, the cameraman who had suggested they go catch seafood.

Ten minutes before the tsunami struck, Liang Jie had found Xiao Li and Little Sun picking shellfish along the beach. They were strolling back at an unhurried pace when the disaster hit without warning. The ground shuddered beneath their feet, and animals in the forest bolted in panic from every direction. Only then did they sense something was terribly wrong, and they bolted up the mountain for their lives.

But in the chaos of the flight, they lost track of Xiao Li.

The tsunami came too fast, surging forward with irresistible destructive power. With the colossal waves bearing down on them from behind, they could only focus on their own survival, eyes squeezed shut as they charged blindly upward.

Stealing glances over their shoulders, they saw the waves churning with snapped trees hurtling toward them.

Terror seized their eyes in an instant.

It was over. They were done for.

In that moment of peril, Liang Jie and Little Sun suddenly felt their bodies lighten as their feet left the ground. They rocketed straight upward at blinding speed, the surrounding trees and forests blurring into mere streaks.

Liang Jie and Little Sun: ?

Had they just… died?

Why was there no pain, no suffocating rush of seawater?

It wasn’t until their rears slammed into the ground, sending a jolt of agony through them, that they realized they had been saved.

Song Guiya had used her lightness skill to grab them both and carry them flying up to the waterfall cliff.

Now that the tsunami had passed, they heard her voice and staggered to their feet, their faces etched with grief. “Xiao Li, he…”

This line of work came with its risks—wilderness survival was unpredictable, after all—but prior surveys, careful setups, the program crew’s advanced medical support, and precise weather forecasts had kept real disasters at bay through countless episodes. No one had imagined they’d face death so abruptly, let alone watch a colleague vanish right before their eyes, his fate unknown.

As things stood, Xiao Li was likely gone.

He was new to the team, and they’d spent less than two days together, but he had been a young life all the same.

The loss hit them hard.

Little Sun slapped himself across the face, his voice thick with self-reproach. “It’s all my fault. I got bored and talked him into going out to catch seafood.”

Tears and snot streamed down the face of this big, burly man, a testament to the depth of his guilt and regret.

Liang Jie watched him, at a loss for words of comfort or condemnation. He simply patted his shoulder in silence and wiped away his own tears.

Song Guiya stood quietly off to the side, waiting for them to finish.

On the battlefield, she had witnessed countless comrades pierced through the chest, their hot blood splattering across her face each time.

That feeling was bitter indeed.

In the beginning, nightmares had plagued her night after night. She’d wake in a cold sweat and step outside the tent into the chill wind, staring toward the Imperial Capital as she recalled her youth spent with the Eldest Princess—down to the smallest details, like how Xi Tongyue always ate the dried fruit first in her pastry.

Those memories had steadied her, banishing her fear.

On the way back, Liang Jie and Little Sun—exhausted and leaning on each other—trudged up the mountain. Song Guiya deliberately slowed her pace, walking ahead to lead the way.

When they reached the edge of the ravine, Song Guiya came to a stop and turned to face the two men, their faces drained of color.

“I’ll carry you across. Just don’t struggle.”

She had burned through a good deal of her stamina saving them earlier. With her inner energy running low, if they panicked and flailed about in midair, all three of them might end up tumbling into the depths.

Liang Jie and Little Sun: ???

The next instant, their feet lifted off the ground once more as she soared with them toward the far side of the ravine, dozens of meters across.

Gazing down at the yawning abyss beneath their feet, their hearts pounded as if ready to leap from their chests, yet they fought to keep still, not daring to twitch.

“Aaaahhh!” After a bellow that could shake Mount Tai itself, the pair touched down safely again.

By good fortune, there was no ignominious tumble onto their rears this time.

Just as the three prepared to press on, Song Guiya’s ears suddenly pricked up, and she halted in her tracks.

“Teacher Song, what’s wrong?” Liang Jie asked, puzzled.

“Did either of you hear someone shouting for help?” Song Guiya inquired.

Liang Jie and Little Sun exchanged a glance, then shook their heads. “Nope.”

Song Guiya’s brows furrowed faintly. She closed her eyes and poured all her focus into her hearing.

“Help…”

Song Guiya spun toward the ravine’s edge and stood firm, peering down into the abyss. Liang Jie and Little Sun hurried over to join her, staring into the depths.

“It’s way too deep down there—pitch black, can’t make out a thing.”

“No way anyone’s alive at the bottom of that. Did Teacher Song maybe hear wrong?”

Song Guiya said nothing. Two seconds later, a faint cry for help echoed up again. “Anyone there…? Help…”

Liang Jie and Little Sun: !!!

There really was someone calling for help!

And that voice—it sounded kind of familiar?

“Could it be Xiao Li?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Seizing onto that sliver of recognition, they bellowed into the dark void below. “Xiao Li, is that you?”

“You still alive down there?”

“Brother Liang, Brother Sun? That you guys?” A response shot back from the depths at the sound of their voices, though a fierce gust of wind rendered it barely audible.

Liang Jie and Little Sun strained to hear but couldn’t make it out. They turned to Song Guiya, whose ears were the sharpest.

After listening intently, she gave them a firm nod. “It’s him.”

The two burly men broke into tears of relief.

Thank goodness—Xiao Li was still alive!

The problem was, with the ravine so impossibly deep, how were they going to get him out?

Song Guiya pondered for a moment before instructing them. “Head to the mountaintop and round up some people. Bring every climbing rope you’ve got.”

Every cameraman carried a coil of climbing rope in their pack, meant for just this sort of emergency rescue.

The chasm plunged into oblivion; even with her Lightness Skill, diving in recklessly could mean a fatal slip and a shattered end on the rocks below.

After all, Lightness Skill and true flight were worlds apart.

Ropes would change that. She could rappel down safely. From the voice, he wasn’t at the very bottom—likely tucked into a cave along the sheer rock wall.

Such caves were often dug by hand; she’d spotted plenty in the wild mountains before.

On a deserted island like this, though, tectonic shifts were the more probable culprit.

Whatever the cause, it had given Xiao Li a fighting chance to survive. That was the real stroke of luck.

“Right away!” Their exhaustion evaporated in an instant, and they bolted toward the mountaintop at full sprint.

Song Guiya remained behind, scanning the surroundings. For one thing, she wanted to pinpoint Xiao Li’s exact position to make the rescue smoother later. For another, she needed to stay vigilant against any surprises, ready to head them off if they arose.

She was scouting a nearby sturdy tree to anchor the rope when a sharp cry erupted from below. She dashed to the edge and caught the guttural roar of a beast, followed by a muffled shout: “Teacher Xi, run!”

Xi Tongyue?!

She was down there too?!

In that heartbeat, Song Guiya felt the blood drain from her body. Without a second thought, she hurled herself into the bottomless chasm.

Meanwhile.

In a dim, dank cave, Xi Tongyue stared down a brown bear with eyes aglow in eerie green.

The narrow taper of her eyes and the sharp upward sweep of her brows radiated a cold, perilous edge like a drawn blade—a feral, domineering aura utterly alien to the modern world.

Xiao Li leaned against the cave wall, his legs trembling nonstop. He summoned every ounce of strength just to keep himself from collapsing to his knees.

The intensely dangerous standoff was enough to make the very air grow thick and still.

Xiao Li felt short of breath, on the verge of hallucinating. Teacher Xi’s gaze struck him as cold as the ethereal white mist crowning a frozen mountaintop—silent and insidious, capable of freezing a lone traveler amid the desolate snow peaks to death.

For a moment, he couldn’t even tell which was more terrifying: the beast, or Teacher Xi.

Even the brown bear seemed cowed by the oppressive aura, not daring to take another step forward for a long while.

Just as the tension reached an impasse, Xiao Li dropped to his knees with a thud.

His face crumpled in misery. “S-sorry… I really can’t stand anymore.”

That kneel was a blatant signal of cowardice. The brown bear instantly gaped its foul-breathed maw and lunged straight at Xi Tongyue.

“Teacher Xi, watch out!”

Xi Tongyue dodged aside, but only by the narrowest margin.

Against a hulking brute weighing over two hundred pounds, she wasn’t so arrogant as to try grappling it barehanded. Her only option was to rely on agility to evade, then maneuver it toward the cave mouth and send it tumbling into the abyss below.

Easier planned than done, though.

The bear missed its strike but swiftly regained its footing right at the cave entrance, as if it had seen through her scheme. Enraged, it let out a furious roar and swung its massive arm at her once more.

The paw was as broad as a banana-leaf fan, its thick pad gleaming with hardened toughness, the razor-sharp claws stained dark red with old blood. It was plain to see how many creatures had met their end beneath that blow.

Xi Tongyue bent low in a flash, the claws whistling past her by a hair’s breadth.

The bear allowed no reprieve, charging again. Under the barrage of relentless assaults, Xi Tongyue retreated until her back pressed against the rock wall, her icy eyes locked unblinkingly on the beast before her.

Xiao Li’s throat bobbed with a dry gulp, but no words came out. Utterly petrified, he stared at Xi Tongyue as terror stripped him of any will to act. All he could do was kneel there, tears streaming down his face, watching helplessly as she faced being devoured.

Yet even in that dire moment, the depths of Xi Tongyue’s eyes remained as calm and profound as a still pond. She held herself with the unflinching poise of a true predator, like a sleek leopard coiled in elegant ambush—untouchable, unignorable.

Sensing its prey trapped with nowhere to flee, the brown bear advanced slowly, step by deliberate step toward Xi Tongyue.

Waves of the stench from rotting flesh wafted through the air. The bear was almost upon her when a voice, clear and crisp as a mountain spring, rang out from the cave mouth.

“Xi Tongyue!”