No idea where the shoes went, and neither are the pants.
By the edge of the creek, Song Ying only found her blouse—for now, she could only hastily put it on, still stumbling as she followed Luo Qiu's pace.
Walking while carrying someone is a hassle, so not long after, Luo Qiu began to carry Gan Hong on his back.
Gan Hong had a strong will, holding on without fainting from pain, though she didn't have the strength to speak, her face pale as paper.
The grass on the ground was quite sharp, and before long, Song Ying's legs were covered in tiny cuts from the sharp grass—along with the sprained ankle from fighting the wild man, severely hindering her mobility.
But she didn't utter a word along the way, didn't cry out in pain…because she feared that stopping would delay Luo Qiu's pace, putting Gan Hong in even greater danger.
