Volume One: Another World Chapter Thirty-Two: Have You Ever Tried Underground Drifting?

During the meal, Li Yu glanced through the open wooden door. Although he didn’t discover any clues that could help them escape, he did figure out that it was probably evening. If this were Blue Star, that information would be quite important—after all, ordinary people’s condition tends to decline somewhat at night. But this was another world, and these people could likely go several days and nights without sleep.

Even Li Yu himself barely needed rest anymore. Only out of habit, after so many years, did he still insist on eight hours of sleep each night.

“Hey, have you ever gone through anything like this before?” Li Yu asked, curiosity lacing his voice. After all, this was his first time truly experiencing a kidnapping.

Qing Anqi shook her head. “No.”

Li Yu suddenly didn’t know what to say. In ten years, Qing Anqi had never encountered something like this, and yet here he was, only a few days in, and already up to his neck in trouble.

Was the system arranging all this just to enrich his life in the other world?

“What’s wrong?” Qing Anqi asked, puzzled.

“Nothing,” Li Yu replied, shaking his head. At that moment, he felt something beneath his hand and looked down.

It was a small protrusion—probably a nail securing the floorboards—which, perhaps owing to years of neglect, had worked loose. The kidnappers hadn’t noticed it.

Without changing his expression, Li Yu quietly pried it out. He wasn’t sure what it was made of, but the tip was extremely sharp, and it was shaped like a nail.

“What are you doing?” Qing Anqi asked, hearing the faint rustling. Unlike Li Yu, she couldn’t see in the darkness.

“Nothing. I was just wondering whether I should sleep now or wait,” Li Yu whispered. He wasn’t sure if the kidnappers were monitoring them, so he erred on the side of caution and said no more, but behind his back, he began sawing at the rope around his wrists with the sharp nail.

“You’re going to sleep this early?” Qing Anqi’s tone was laced with disapproval.

What was with that obvious disdain?

“The sea of learning is endless, but I just want to be a good-for-nothing,” Li Yu said as he sat down in a corner. “Besides, balance is important.”

A typical eighth-rank cultivator had many things to accomplish. Connecting the meridians between the heart aperture and the dantian was a huge undertaking. Strictly speaking, once that connection was completed, one could be considered an eighth-rank cultivator who had attained minor perfection.

Li Yu, on the other hand, was already halfway to the seventh rank. The only thing he lacked was accumulated spiritual power. While others had to both amass spiritual energy in preparation for liquefaction and continually explore and open up their meridians, Li Yu had a clear and unfair advantage.

“You can’t waste your talent like this!” Qing Anqi said sternly. “Four hours of sleep a day is enough.”

Qing Anqi could be called a model cultivator. After reaching minor perfection at the eighth rank, she had adhered strictly to the prescribed schedule: practicing martial arts to temper her meridians, sitting in meditation to accumulate spiritual power, again and again.

“Anqi,”

Seeing that Qing Anqi was about to start another lecture, Li Yu hurried to change the subject. “I know what you’re saying. Every time you talk about it, I feel like I should get up and cultivate. But look at where we are. We’re hostages. We should at least show a little respect for our kidnappers.”

“Wouldn’t it be a little insulting to start cultivating in front of them?” Li Yu added. “What if they get angry?”

Qing Anqi considered this and realized it made sense. She let down her legs, which she had been preparing to cross for meditation.

Li Yu, watching her through his spiritual sense, thought to himself: Sure enough, children are easy to fool, no matter what world you’re in.

Time passed—how much, he couldn’t tell. When Li Yu turned to check, he saw that Qing Anqi, thoroughly hoodwinked, had fallen asleep with her head resting against his foot. He sighed.

By his estimate, it had been eight or nine hours since the White Serpent dragged them into the water. Yet here they remained, imprisoned in this basement.

Li Yu didn’t believe that Qing Heng would do nothing for so long. As a Duke, the Qingshan Army should have already begun searching the area. And yet, their situation hadn’t changed at all.

The kidnappers showed no intention of moving them, which suggested they had confidence in this location.

It seemed their only reliable option was to save themselves.

“My hands are so sore.”

Li Yu’s hands never stopped their subtle movements. From the moment he’d gotten the nail, he’d been trying to saw through the rope.

“It’s done!”

The rope fell to the ground. Li Yu grabbed it in his hands, then lay down and pressed his ear to the floor, listening intently.

He was searching for the sound of running water.

He had a bold hypothesis: the kidnappers had probably brought them here via an underwater passage connected to the lake.

They were likely still within the Qing clan compound. Whether it was the clan emblem on the cell or the sound of water below, Li Yu suspected the kidnappers were hiding right under everyone’s noses. Otherwise, with all the patrols and guards, escape would be impossible.

“I found it,” Li Yu muttered, noting the spot where the sound of water was loudest before returning to Qing Anqi’s side.

He needed to make some preparations—mental ones. If something went wrong, he could use the system to return to Blue Star, but Qing Anqi had no such means. If it came to a real life-or-death crisis, she’d be out of luck.

Assuming, of course, that reincarnation was even possible in this world.

Entering the underground river didn’t necessarily mean they’d be any safer than in the kidnappers’ hands—especially since the kidnappers, by hiding within the clan compound, were probably hoping for ransom.

Of course, it wasn’t impossible that the kidnappers would simply kill them. But Li Yu had his own judgment: since the kidnappers had yet to reveal themselves, it was unlikely they planned to kill their hostages. Otherwise, what was the point of all the secrecy? Dead men tell no tales, after all.

Li Yu decided to wait and see.

So he leaned against the wall and, before he knew it, drifted off to sleep.

...

“How are things going?” For once, Qing Heng wasn’t at his desk. After all, this report concerned his daughter.

“The young lady had dinner and went to sleep. Then the ‘kidnappers’ thought Li Yu was laughing too loudly and took his food away,” Qing Yi reported.

Weren’t they supposed to go easy on the two of them at first? Wait—laughing too loudly?

Qing Heng paused, feeling a little slow on the uptake, then said, “Be careful. Get ready to move them to a second location, and make them suffer a little!”

If things were too difficult right from the start, he worried the two kids might collapse. The plan had always been to ease them in, so they’d experience hardship but not an unbearable amount of pressure.

With the order given, a hidden force within the Qing clan began to move. Only a handful of people were in on this operation; the goal was to make the ruse convincing. If they could fool their own people, they could certainly fool the targets—Li Yu and Qing Anqi.

A team of black-clad figures slipped into the shadows, heading for a corner of the residential building, careful to avoid the patrols and the guards’ spirit beasts.

...

Li Yu’s ears twitched as he caught the sound of an argument.

“Just fell asleep?” he wondered, shaking his head to clear it. Strange—he’d only meant to close his eyes for a moment, and yet he’d dozed off...

Li Yu stood on tiptoe, channeling spiritual energy into his ears. Now he could just make out some muffled voices from above.

“You’re not one of us?”

Was someone here to rescue them? Li Yu’s heart leapt, but then he sighed. Had an infiltrator been discovered?

“Damn it, where did you get your information?”

“Yelling won’t do you any good. The area’s already sealed off—no one will notice anything unusual here!”

“We won’t let you succeed. If you harm them, your whole clan will pay!”

The voices faded in and out. Piecing together what he’d heard, Li Yu drew a conclusion:

No one had come to rescue them. Instead, there was a split among the kidnappers—some wanted to hurt them, others refused. Which side would prevail, he wondered?

He didn’t know, but he could sense spiritual energy clashing above; the floor itself was shaking, dust raining down. Things were getting serious.

“Anqi, wake up!” he whispered, shaking her awake. “Don’t say a word—grab onto me and follow.”

He led her to a corner, took a deep breath, and let the spiritual power he’d been storing surge into his hands. Blow after blow, he hammered the floor, his hands soon slick with blood from the force of the impacts.

Li Yu didn’t stop until he’d punched a hole through the floorboards. Chunks of earth tumbled away, revealing the water flowing beneath.

“Anqi, how long can you hold your breath? I’m taking you on an underground rafting adventure,” Li Yu said.