The rain outside poured down from the sky again, and in the pitch-black canal where hands couldn't be seen, icy cold river water flowed, reaching above the mid-thigh of Yan Nanxun.
He had been maintaining a bent-over posture for a very long time.
In these few hours, he groped several kilometers along the river canal, not knowing if he could finish the several tens of kilometers long canal before dawn.
His hands, having been soaked in the water for a long time, had become wrinkly and pale, but he couldn't see them in the dark.
His hands continued to search through the mud and sand at the bottom of the canal.
The events that unfolded today had rapidly depleted his energy, suddenly Yan Nanxun staggered, almost tumbling into the canal.
His legs kneeled directly in the mud and sand, and the icy cold river water quickly submerged his chest.
He felt something in the mud.
Taking it out and wiping away the excess mud and sand, he felt a ring attached to a string.
