"But he might never meet the people hunting us." Feng Zhiwei replied, sighing. "You cannot take a life simply because of a possibility."
"Feng Zhiwei, I never thought you were so merciful." Ning Yi smiled coldly. "Success relies on ten thousand corpses; these small trifles stand in the way of great works. Do you understand?"
"I understand." Feng Zhiwei replied, standing and passing him Tuckahoe root that she had just washed. "Eat, and then we will head for his home."
Ning Yi accepted the Tuckahoe wordlessly; his words splashing ineffectually against Feng Zhiwei's calm like blows into cotton.
He finally understood her plan — Feng Zhiwei had indicated that they would be heading to the ancient temple so their enemies would be directed to that building by the woodsman; in this circumstance, the woodsman's house was the safest.
They were both injured and slow, and rather than rush around like weary dogs, it would be better to hide and rest.
