Jing Yang is one step closer to a dead end, but he is still alive.

He now knew that this was the deepest part of a flower.

He was in a strange world, where trees were taller and bigger than in the real world, grass could grow on top of people's heads, and flowers were surprisingly large, especially in the flower field where he was imprisoned, and the strange flowers could grow to the size of a house.

But in general, trees, grasses, and flowers exist in a peculiar proportion, which does not correspond to the real world.

The thorn was thrown from the flower's stigma as if it had fallen from a deep well, and finally landed on the soft and elastic bottom, as if the body had lost its weight.

He knew that he was already weak, and he rolled over and lay on the ground, and after a day's toil, he could only crawl now. He saw his withered hands like a bird's claws, his skin crumpled over his phalanges, and his blue veins bursting out.

Jing Yan dragged his body to the wall and sat back, the back of his hand touching the inner wall of the ovary, soft to the touch, with an astringent tenderness.

The dark yellow wall was divided into many irregular boxes by transparent water pipes, which were many huge cells, and there were water droplets flowing in the cell walls, and the cold through the membrane soothed the fatigue around the body.

There is a gap in the water pipe near Jing Yang, which is covered with a movable diaphragm, from which the drinking water can only be sucked, and the nectar will also be poured down from the water pipe, once a day, which is his only food.

He wasn't used to it, but he didn't have a choice. He pulled them out of the hose and gulped them into his mouth, they couldn't fully recover his strength, but he could quickly recover some of them.

When he had finished eating, he wiped the residue from the corner of his mouth and made a horizontal bar on the ground with his long, dirty, jagged nails.

This is the 485th day that Jing Min has been trapped in the spirit world.

At first, he was agitated.

If the Spirit Covenant has been controlled by the six elders, then the Spirit Covenant is not just a traitor. Their target is obviously wolf spirit blood, and colluding with the rat clan is just a cover-up.

The rat clan seal has now fallen into Lin Xiang's hands, which is fortunate and unfortunate, he doesn't know if Lin Xiang can complete the task and find the seals of the rest of the beast clans - after his disappearance. After all, she was just a child without the world.

In addition to him, only Xiao Qi and Tian Jing knew her wolf clan identity, on the one hand, he hoped that if they were okay, they could fully assist Lin Xiang, on the other hand, he didn't know if they could still be trusted.

Jing Yi thought of Chang Feng again, he entrusted him with a heavy responsibility, but he also failed to completely reveal Lin Xiang's identity to him.

Chang Feng was the only one other than him who had seen the prophecy of the separation of the Three Realms of the Creation Crystal, but he didn't tell Chang Feng that there had always been a mysterious force in the Spirit Covenant to cover up this prophecy, and Jing Yan could be sure that this force came from the Academy, and within this force, there was another branch that secretly exposed this conspiracy to him.

The undercurrent is moving, friend and foe are inseparable, and the whole world is shrouded in the danger of imbalance in the Three Realms, but he is trapped in the spirit realm, doing nothing.

Maybe he should have told Chang Feng all this a long time ago, he was sixty-four years old, he thought he could carry it, in fact, he overestimated himself, he was just a bad old man. Thinking of this, Jing was frustrated by his powerlessness.

His only chance, in them.

A spirit race that escapes the world.

Jing needed to see them. He needs their help, and the world, too, needs them.

Since the last time he was defeated by Anda, Jing Yan hadn't seen them again.

At night, he was imprisoned in this flower prison, and at dawn, two flower elves would clamp his two arms, take him out of the flower prison, and throw him into a flower field. They would tell him that the daily tasks were nothing more than digging pits, piling soil, watering, and fertilizing.

In the normal world, this is the easiest thing to do, but in the spirit world, with his current physical condition, digging a few flower pits can consume his time and energy all day.

He knew that there were other people in this flower field, but he had never seen them.

The guarding elves would hover back and forth in the air, and most of the time, they would stay directly above his head before occasionally flying to patrol other parts of the flower field. The flower fields are so large that you can't see the edges.

Jing Yi looked at the jagged curve of the outline of the leaves and petals where the top of the tree met the sky, and occasionally saw a certain bump with obvious undulations, and he could even hear the shouts as they lifted the plant and put it into the flower pit, which was not very clear—but yes, it was them.

They work in groups of several people, maybe three, four, or at least two, and he is the only one who is alone.

At first, Jing Yang had tried to call out to the elves who had teleported him and the elves who were patrolling, asking to see the elders of the three clans, but they didn't seem to understand him.

The three clans of the spirit world, the flower clan, the grass clan and the tree clan, each have their own ethnic language, and among the three clans, there is also a common language, when they give him mission orders, they can speak simple human language, probably not proficient.

Of course, it is also possible that they selectively ignore his words.

In any case, he could not stay in this field of flowers. Jing pretended to accept their arrangement, and conscientiously completed the tasks assigned to them every day, emptying his mind and digging into the soil and filling the plants like a machine.

The sweat of Jing Yan dripped into the black and heavy soil day after day, and sometimes the sweat crawled all over his cheeks like an earthworm, and he would wipe it with a wave of his sleeves, and the sleeves that had been dyed gray and black would have a faint pink, but as the sweat dried, it would disappear and become invisible.

Every time the patrol elves flew over his head and drifted away, Jing Yan began to count silently until they came back the next time.

As the days passed, he found that the interval between their returns was getting longer and longer—they had finally let their guard down on him, or at least treated him as much as they did to the other prisoners in the flower fields.

The longest time, it took twenty minutes for the patrol elf to return to him.

Twenty minutes, that's enough.

In the early morning of the three hundred and eighty-sixth day, after the patrol elf flew over his head, he quickly crouched down, rolled into a clump of flowers and leaves beside him, looked around, and made sure that no one had passed, and then made a rapid move towards the east.

After observing silently for more than three hundred and eighty days, at night, he was imprisoned in one of the flower prisons in the east of the flower field, and in the morning, every time the elves brought him to the flower field, he would always fly back to the east, and then he would come back to continue patrolling, and before the end of each day's work, they also flew back from the east to take him away.

He guessed that further east of the flower prison where he was imprisoned, there was someone he wanted to meet, or, somewhere, an important place. He doesn't care, as long as he gets out of the status quo, there is hope.

Jing Min began to walk through the flower fields.

Only one type of flower is planted in the flower field.

He didn't know the name of the flower, and he had never seen it in the real world.

When the young flowers were brought in, they were tender green from the buds to the leaves, the stems were only as high as his chest, about the thickness of his wrists, and the stems were covered with fine hairs, which did not pierce people.

The roots of the flower are very well developed, and the whisker-like roots can be said to grow in a mess, and if you pull up a random one, it is a criss-crossing web, and a young flower half a human height has a mass of roots equal to its height.

When the flower is planted and planted, the growth rate is amazing, and in less than a week, the flower stem can grow to the thickness of the bowl mouth, and the fluff on the stem gradually hardens and turns into sharp spikes.

After another three weeks, the buds will bloom, with seven heart-shaped petals, enough to lie down on an adult, and the color is very strange, the petals are white towards the southwest, and gradually transition to a deep purple in the east.

After that, the stem will grow taller and taller, and the flower will grow bigger and bigger, until it will become the kind of flower prison that can imprison him.

Now, as he delves deeper into the flower field, the flowers are getting taller and taller, and the spikes on the flower stems begin to scratch through his clothes and skin. The wounds were ripped open, healed, and repeated, and his dirty, shabby elder's robes were covered in blood.

Jing Yan couldn't recognize which flower was the one he lived in, and there was no mark on the shape of the flower.

Judging by the growth of the flowers, he had probably run past the flower prison, and the gaps between the flowers in front of him were getting smaller and smaller, until at last he could barely walk sideways between the spikes of the two flower stems, and he knew that he had to run all the way to the end of the flower field.

When Jing Yan squeezed out of the last row of flowers, his eyes suddenly opened up. In front of a small open space, there was only one flower.

A giant flower, the flower stem alone is about 30 meters high, looking up, black pressing, the back of the flower is like the dome of the stadium, covering most of the sky.

A female voice came from his head: "Go back." You can't leave this flower field. ”

He looked up and saw Qingyue floating in the air—the young woman beside the Tree Clan Elder.

"Take me to the Spirit Elders. Jing said, feeling his chest puff up.

"Are you deaf? If you leave this flower field, you will only die. Qingyue said.

Jing Yan said, "The wolf spirit needs your help...... Her wolf nature is too strong to devour her, and only the power of your spirit race can awaken her. ”

"Wolf spirit. Qingyue smiled, "Where did the wolf spirit come from?"

"She's always been there for me, and I've raised her as a normal wolf. ”

Qing Yue snorted coldly: "Old man, the wolf spirit blood was extinct three million years ago. Stillborn, he died with Princess Hefia. ”

"I don't know what's going on. But she does exist, and you can feel her. If I lie, you will know too. But what if what I'm saying is true?" Jing Yi knew that the Spirit Clan had the ability to read minds, and he didn't need to explain much at all.

If she believes, she will.

"I said a long time ago, we should have killed him, a hundred. ”

Qingyue wasn't talking to him. Jing Yan turned his head and saw Anda behind him.

Anda had been following Jing Yan, watching him stumble and fall.

He confronted this mutated human in the Mantuo Theater, and under the witness of the elves of the Flower Clan, the Grass Clan, and the Tree Clan, he was defeated by the old man, and finally, with the blessing of the Spirit Clan's wand, he defeated him.

Everyone was silent. He felt ashamed. He is recognized as the most powerful warrior of the Spirit Clan, and even in the face of the Spirit Clan's old enemy for many years, he has never suffered defeat. The old man infuriated him.

However, he didn't want to kill him.

He stood face to face with him, and he could read his heart. He is also a warrior, in their camp. In the old man's memory, he saw his past, and saw that he never flinched in front of his opponents. Anda respects all warriors by nature.

Jing Min and Anda stared at each other, his breathing began to get harder and harder, and a heavy black shadow came out from under his nose. First he felt his vision pitch black, then his limbs numb and powerless, and finally his consciousness dissipated.

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