Jiang Feng stood outside the tent, the fierce blizzard bringing him back to his senses.
Reflecting on the scene just now, he felt speechless about his actions. With the battle so near, he had nearly lost himself in the comfort of the moment.
Meanwhile, Wu Feng and the others around the bonfire had all returned to their tents to rest.
Only Fang Wei sat alone by the fire, unmoving, as though he were a statue amidst the cold winds.
Jiang Feng walked straight towards him.
"Sir, why haven't you rested yet?"
Fang Wei looked up at Jiang Feng in surprise and asked.
"If we find that dragon, there might be a way to restore your hand."
Jiang Feng replied with something seemingly unrelated, glancing at Fang Wei's fingerless right hand, and spoke calmly.
Fang Wei was taken aback, his eyes wide open, filled with ice particles: "Really?"
