Meng Fuyao shook her head, cursing, "Proud and unruly? More like bullying the weak and fearing the strong."
Nevertheless, she no longer paid much attention to it and followed Zong Yue up the mountains. When the sun set, they made their way down. As they were a still a distance away from the old Han couple's home, Zong Yue, who was leading the way, stopped suddenly.
From afar, they could hear cries traveling from the old couple's house. The cries were sharp and mournful, and the next moment, sounds of drawers flipping and collapsing could be heard. Bodies were banging against furniture, producing dull thuds amid crude laughter and words. Women and children's frightful weeping blended together awfully as the surrounding neighbors listened on with rapt attention, their faces full of sympathy and anger. Yet, when that was done, they scuttled back into their own houses and secured the locks.
