Inside the pitch-black cave, Xu Zhengyong was trying to dig out the mud and rocks that blocked the entrance.
These mud and rocks, though soft, seemed to be infinite. The more he dug out, the more seemed to accumulate.
Due to the lack of oxygen and the chill, Xu Zhengyong was gradually losing strength.
Wei Mingting said to Xu Zhengyong, "Brother Xiaoyong, take a rest. If you continue like this, your body won't be able to keep up."
Wei Mingting sat next to him, sounding exhausted while speaking.
They had been trapped in this cave for four hours, the air inside was growing ever thinner, and the damp and frigid conditions were taking a toll on their bodies.
Wei Mingting and Xu Zhengyong, despite being martial artists and slightly better off, were also suffering. The three villagers who were with them huddled together, and the weakest among them, a nine-year-old boy, was semi-conscious.
In this state, they couldn't last much longer.