Hua Zhuo called out several times, but Hua Yan showed no sign of movement; it was as if she'd lost consciousness and couldn't hear anything.
Xia Yuan also grew anxious and called for Hua Yan from the side.
Even Tian Bujue began to think his words made sense and followed with some remarks to provoke Hua Yan.
But no matter what the three of them said, Hua Yan remained still, deeply silent, not even fluttering an eyelash. The frost mist on her brow grew thicker and thicker, gradually, not only did a chilling aura seep from her pulse and brow, but also from all over her body, enveloping her in a cloak of icy coldness. Hua Zhuo, who held her, also felt the bone-piercing chill, as though he was about to be frozen stiff.
Tian Bujue shouted, "No good, Hua Zhuo, quickly stir up your spiritual power and try to help her."
"You crow's mouth, Master," Xia Yuan was so anxious she was near tears.
Tian Bujue wished he could slap himself, fearing exactly what had come to pass.