Qi Xia was already drenched in sweat, unable to recall how long he had been running. All he knew was that it had been years since he had pushed his physical limits like this.
Gasping for breath, his mouth and tongue felt as if coated in sand, parched to the point where not a single drop of moisture could be squeezed out.
His vision blurred repeatedly, his heart pounding violently. All he could hope for now was that his breathing wouldn’t falter—if acute intercostal pain struck, he’d be left stranded, waiting for death.
Qi Xia cursed himself for never bothering to train his body. But then again, this kind of prolonged sprint was something only professional athletes could endure. Ordinary people would inevitably exhaust themselves at some point—no amount of regular exercise could compensate for this.
What would the “Land of Finality” look like after this “Pegasus Moment”?
Would more than half of the “paths” laid out by everyone here be abandoned once again, forcing them to start over from scratch?
Though this celestial-level game paled in comparison to the grand reshuffles initiated by the Heavenly Dragon and Azure Dragon, it was still brutal enough to leave all “participants” severely weakened. Many would fail to attain their “Echoes” in time, completely forgetting the experience they had painstakingly accumulated.
Frowning, Qi Xia glanced back. The eerie black thread maintained its steady, unhurried pace, yet it was undeniably inching closer.
The stone Chen Junan had thrown was effortlessly sliced apart by it. If that thing made contact with flesh, death was certain.
Now it seemed the black threads descending from the sun weren’t slithering like snakes—they were instead “infinitely extending” from the sun as their pivot point within a span of two hours.
Qi Xia knew he couldn’t even afford to distance himself from the thread to rest for a few minutes. If he lost sight of it, he wouldn’t know which direction it might approach from. A single moment of distraction could mean death.
“Not good…” Qi Xia gritted his teeth, thinking to himself. “At this rate, I won’t last… But my ‘Echo’…”
Just as his world spun, he suddenly caught sight of a woman in a white dress turning a distant street corner, vanishing in a flash.
Qi Xia froze, momentarily unsure if he was still dreaming.
That white dress was all too familiar. As the figure disappeared around the corner, he felt as though something had been wrenched from his chest.
“An…?” He shook his head hard, confirming he was still lucid, then stared in the direction the girl had fled. A faint thread, nearly invisible, hovered in the air.
This meant she wasn’t a hallucination—she was real. A “participant” like him, also being pursued by a thread.
A participant… in a white dress… with waist-length hair?
Even in that fleeting glimpse, the image of her back was seared into Qi Xia’s mind, making it impossible for him to focus.
“The deepest ‘obsession’ in my heart…”
Now, two paths lay before Qi Xia. To the left was the open area he had originally planned to reach. To the right, the labyrinthine alleyway the girl in white had entered.
This was a gamble.
Without his “Echo,” choosing the right path meant stepping into complete uncertainty.
But in this vast “Land of Finality,” what were the odds of encountering someone whose silhouette so perfectly matched Yu Nian’an’s?
His stamina was nearly spent. No matter what, there was a chance he’d die in this “Pegasus Moment.”
“If I can’t obtain my ‘Echo’ no matter what…” Qi Xia pressed his lips together. “At least don’t let regret be the last thing I feel.”
Steeling himself, he mustered what little strength remained and sprinted forward, widening the gap between himself and the thread. He snatched up a few large discarded cardboard sheets and a handful of fine sand.
Clutching both, he steadied his breathing and dashed into the alley on the right, plunging into the dimness.
The narrow, aged alley stretched straight ahead, barely two meters wide, leading to some unknown destination.
The girl in white was already gone—she must have fled deeper into the alley.
The sunlight here was faint to begin with, and with no functioning streetlights, the alley at high noon felt like twilight. Spotting any threads was nearly impossible.
If he couldn’t determine whether the girl had hugged the walls or moved down the center, every step Qi Xia took would be a gamble with death.
Fortunately, he had prepared. He pulled out one of the cardboard sheets and, like throwing a playing card, sent it spinning down the alley.
The cardboard curved through the air but remained intact, untouched by any unseen threat.
Nervously, Qi Xia glanced back—his own thread was now barely seven or eight meters away.
Without hesitation, he hurled the second sheet in a different direction. This time, midway down the alley, it emitted a soft thud before splitting in two and fluttering to the ground.
“So that’s how it is…”
Qi Xia nodded. The girl must have hugged the left wall—her thread was there too.
Once certain, he scattered the fine sand along the left side. No matter how sharp the thread was, it couldn’t slice every grain. Dust particles clung to it, outlining its shape just enough for Qi Xia to discern.
Confident in his path, he hurried forward.
The two cardboard tests confirmed no other participants—or their threads—had passed through. For now, it was safe.
But now that he was here, the alley would soon have threads on both sides. Anyone else who entered afterward would be out of luck.
Qi Xia reached the end quickly—a T-junction where the girl’s thread veered left.
But the left path was blocked by high walls, casting it in near-total darkness. While not quite “pitch-black,” visibility was next to zero.
Qi Xia frowned. Would anyone fleeing for their life willingly choose a path they couldn’t even see?
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage