Hong Liangyu had not gone far out of the Tang Family Village when he headed south into a grove of locust trees, suddenly feeling a strong gust of wind heading for his face. With a hawk's flip, he somersaulted in midair, his right foot kicking out and striking the chest of the oncoming person, only to feel both cold and hard, as if he had kicked a century-old chunk of ice that would not melt. He could only borrow the force to swing himself far away.
As the night had deepened, Hong Liangyu leaned against a locust tree, using the dim moonlight for clarity. He saw that this person was barely clothed, with disheveled hair, and a face so pale and swollen it was unrecognizable. The left eye socket had been gnawed empty by birds and beasts, leaving a bloody hollow. It turned out to be a walking corpse.
