The well below was shrouded in a foggy darkness, so thick that one couldn't see their own hands before them.
"If we were to die like this, don't blame me, I had no other choice but to trust that old Deng." In the deathly silence, Yang Fan suddenly spoke up.
Xue Ting rested her chin on Yang Fan's shoulder, her breathing a little hurried, "Although this outcome might be somewhat hard for me to accept, how could I blame you? If not for you, I would probably have died several times over by now."
"I've been no help at all, only holding you back, I should be the one apologizing."
Yang Fan chuckled lightly, actually feeling calm at that moment.
There was no anger, nor reluctance, just a sense of tiredness, truly wanting to sleep.
"Let's just say neither of us has to apologize," Yang Fan said. "Your buttocks do feel quite nice though, do you mind if I take a little advantage?"