A white sneaker, hanging on a rock, that's Lin Feng's shoes!

The rocks were stained with blood and shocking, apparently left by Lin Feng's body hitting the rocks. Seeing this scene, the tears of the wind flowed down, and my heart was like a knife.

The wind looked up and saw that the rope was at the end, and if it continued to go down, then it would only be on its own. He found a place that was recessed into the cliff, put his feet in, firmly grasped a rattan on the stone wall with his left hand, then released one end of the rope, and slowly pulled down with his right hand, retracting the rope along the cliff wall.

He looked around, but couldn't find a suitable place, and it seemed that he could only wear the rope on the rattan, although it was not very strong, but there was no better option.

The wind tugged at the rattan, and when he was sure that it was all right, he did the same again, and slid down the cliff wall.

The further down the canyon goes, the worse the light becomes, and the vision becomes foggy. The cliff walls are covered with water droplets, the crushed moss gives off a slight musty smell, and occasionally insects fly in front of you, and the "buzz" of flapping wings reaches your ears.

By the faint light of some insects, the wind passed through the dark world like a sleepwalker, and the lungs were filled with a disgusting smell of decay.

The sound of the wind is like a gecko crawling on the wall, slowly sliding, but the level of his climbing wall is not the same as that of a gecko.

Just when he turned his head to look, his right foot slipped suddenly, his left foot couldn't withstand the weight of his whole body for a while, the rope on his wrist tightened suddenly, the power on his hands lost balance, and the bush on the rope made a "click" sound and broke instantly. The sound of the wind is like a kite with a broken string, falling rapidly, making a rattling sound on the cliff face.

Overwhelmed by what to do, the wind didn't have time to react, and his hands tried to grab the vines on the wall, but his repeated efforts were unsuccessful due to the speed of the slide.

Only a "bang" was heard, and luckily, God stretched out his arm again, and the wind fell on a platform that protruded from the cliff wall, and his back hit the ground, and he fell on his backpack, and the rope fell on him.

After a long while, the wind finally got up, put the hemp rope into the backpack, and sat on the ground, panting and rubbing the aching arm, the gloves worn out like tattered clothes.

The wind was frightened, and he looked around cautiously.

The platform seemed to have been built to save his life, jutting out horizontally from the smooth cliff face like a dirt bed. Standing on the edge of the "earthen bed", looking up at the sound of the wind, the sky is already very high, and you can only see the vines and shrubs on the cliff wall.

Feng Sheng looked at the cliff opposite, and his eyes frightened him. A pair of sunglasses--- Lin Feng's sunglasses, the lens was broken, and it hung on the branches of the bushes not far away, a pool of blood splashed on the rocks of the cliff, looking down along the bloodstains, he couldn't bear to look directly, there were actually mutilated limbs, scattered in the corners of the cliff.

Taking his life and continuing to look for Lin Feng is meaningless, and he can't find it, maybe it will be the final outcome.

The wind cried loudly, calling the name of "Lin Feng" one after another, like a long whistle, and the hysterical performance made even him feel incredible.

After calming down, let's think about our situation.

Wind turned and walked back to the platform, where he found a narrow canyon in front of it, which formed a "T" shape with the one he had fallen. This canyon is hidden hundreds of meters deep, and the sun is dim, and the shadows are abundant, and it is difficult to see clearly.

There was an unusually quiet all around, and the cold wind blew in his face, making the wind feel a little cool. Then, the whirring wind sounded in his ears, and he seemed to hear the mournful sound of horses, or the weeping and wailing of those who were unwilling to sleep here.

The wind stood still, motionless, like a stone statue in a cemetery, his eyes hollow, godless, desperate, without a trace of life.

The sound of the wind walked back to the place where it had fallen, and wanted to climb up the cliff and return to the place where it came. At this time, he already regretted slipping into the deep hole, and if he climbed up at that time, maybe it would be another result.

After countless attempts, he crouched on the platform, desperate, there was no such possibility.

The wind turned and walked along the platform, which was connected to the canyon, which was dim and damp, filled with the almond-like fragrance of fungi, and the road was narrow, full of large and small stones, rugged and difficult, and the branches of tall and short shrubs were intertwined, blocking his view and making him unable to distinguish his direction---- in fact, there was no direction here. In some places, he had to bend down and crawl hand and foot on the ground.

The sound of the wind in this gloomy canyon, the cliffs next to it, all intertwined thick tree trunks, countless huge branches and canopies, blocking the light, this place seems to be another world, dark and damp, silent.

Feng Sheng had sat in the study of Wind Whisper, carefully studying the situation in this area, including the topography, topography, climate, and customs, but he had no clue about the place he was in now.

It was a narrow, secluded place, like a corridor that no one knew, deep and narrow, dim and damp, with both the musty smell of decay and the fishy smell of reborn grass. The sun was nowhere to be seen, and even the sky was obscured by cliffs and giant trees.

What the hell is this place?