I just broke up with my boyfriend and then I transmigrated into the world of "The Lost Tomb&quo

As his memories returned, Xie Yuhua finally realized what had happened. He shook his head violently, and the confusion and emptiness in his eyes, which had been drawn by invisible threads, receded as quickly as the tide.

"Ling Xiao!" Xie Yuhua staggered over, his face drained of color, filled only with extreme panic. He shoved aside the fat man who was still blocking his way, knelt down beside Ling Xiao, and his trembling hand reached out to touch that pale face, but stopped abruptly just before he touched it—he saw those eyes.

Those eyes, once brimming with cunning, warmth, and occasional stubbornness, now resembled dusty glass beads, hollowly reflecting the dim light overhead, yet unable to see anyone's image. There was no anger, no sorrow, no him… only a deathly silence.

All of Jieyuhua's movements came to an abrupt halt. He stared at the lifeless body in his hands, at those empty eyes, and an overwhelming sense of fear and self-reproach instantly engulfed him. He was useless; he had been controlled by the illusion.

“Damn it.” A Ning’s voice rang out abruptly, cold and crisp, carrying a professional, almost ruthless decisiveness that instantly pierced through the pervasive sorrow and despair. Her gaze from behind the mask swept sharply over Ling Xiao’s lifeless body.

She looked at Xie Yuhua, a hint of genuine regret in her eyes, quickly suppressed by reason. "In his condition... if we take him with us, we'll all die here." She spoke with absolute certainty, leaving no room for negotiation. This was the law of survival, a realization etched into her very bones after countless struggles on the brink of death.

"Bullshit!" The fat man was the first to explode, his eyes instantly turning red. He pointed at A Ning, both shocked and furious, "Who was it that insisted on bringing our Lingzi to this godforsaken place? Now that something's happened, you want to abandon Lingzi? Dream on! I'll carry him out! I'll carry him out even if it kills me!"

Wu Xie panicked. He couldn't accept A Ning's heartless decision: "A Ning! Compared to us, aren't you closest to Ling Zi? He was just... spacing out! Everyone has moments like that. We can't just abandon him like this!" He tried to pull Xie Yuhua, "Xiao Hua! Say something! Ling Zi needs you! You can't give up on him!"

“Her opinion doesn’t count. No one can abandon a child.” Xie Yuhua glared at A Ning, then carried Ling Xiao on her back.

Behind the mask, A-Ning's expression froze instantly. She clearly felt the emotion contained in Xie Yuhua's glance. She subconsciously tried to twitch the corners of her mouth, revealing a habitual, mocking, and indifferent arc—her instinctive reaction to being misunderstood.

However, the instant her muscles twitched, an indescribable sense of stagnation rose from the depths of her heart. The anticipated ironic arc failed to materialize. Instead, there was an extremely brief emptiness, one that even she herself couldn't grasp. It was as if something had gently, yet sharply, chiseled at her solid barrier of reason, leaving a barely perceptible dent.

Irony? She should feel ironic. But why... is that hint of mockery that should be there in her heart blocked by something?

It doesn't matter anymore. Aning quickly suppressed that slight unease and chose the best solution for the moment. Being able to take it and let it go. That's the way to survive. Emotional fluctuations? Those are unnecessary burdens. The best solution right now is to accept reality, regroup the team, and, carrying this heavy burden, do everything possible to increase the chances of survival. As for whether she'll feel heartache or pain? In this situation, she doesn't deserve it, nor should she.

Her voice, coming through the mask, regained its professional, unwavering calmness; the commands she issued were concise and clear, as if the heated debate about sacrifices had never existed:

"Be on alert, proceed."

She no longer glanced at Xie Yuhua and the heavy "burden" on his back. She gripped her weapon tightly, her sharp gaze fixed ahead, her body leaning slightly forward, assuming a standard tactical marching posture. All distracting thoughts were forcibly suppressed, leaving only the assessment of the environmental threat and the deduction of response plans.