"Master…what do you mean?"
The shadow guards were confused, but Mo Yujian had already gathered himself, the previous tense and twisted expression of his had vanished, returning to its calm and tranquilness. "Bury the corpse somewhere else. It's not her."
"But—"
"She's still alive," he stressed out and walked away.
Hai Feng and the others could do nothing but comply. They prayed for the unknown corpse and burned some joss paper for him. Hai Feng still had some doubt though, he thought that Mo Yujian didn't have the will to see the cruel reality and weaved some lies to deceive himself, thus pretended that Little Ma was only throwing tantrums and would one day return home to them.
Hai Feng's heart ached so much that when he buried the corpse, he shed more tears than he did for the entire thirty eight years of his life.
For the next few days, Mo Yujian dealt with all kinds of popping problems.
