Huang Xiaolong led Ming Kuan, Feng Hanyan, Qingqing, and paced quickly to the entrance of the village (Burial Mounds).
They saw a few children playing hide-and-seek, singing nursery rhymes.
"One two three, dig out a heart"
"Four five six, chop a pig's trotter"
"Seven eight nine, lift and go"
...
"What kind of song is that, who taught them that?" Feng Hanyan muttered.
Ming Kuan smiled at the children and called out. "Kids, we're just passing by and would like a bowl of water from your village. Where are your elders? Can you lead us into the village, how about it?"
"Hee hee hee~~ Hee hee hee~~" The children raised their eyes, looked at Huang Xiaolong and the others, and their expressions were devoid of childish innocence, instead filled with a strange greed and distortion.
Huang Xiaolong, on the other hand, had already seen right through them; these were clearly just a few bloody little ghosts.
The little ghosts laughed for a while, then ran into the village.
