The weather seems to be getting colder and colder.
The already desolate autumn, set against the backdrop of wind-dried corpses and decaying streets, appeared even more bleak.
A beige minibus was driving down a deserted street, where the once red banners on both sides had turned to a blackish gray, fluttering in the wind.
In contrast to this was the lively interior of the minibus, where Zhang Chuyang's sporadic golden remarks made Pei Yuan and the others burst into hearty laughter.
"Really, you guys shouldn't doubt it. There are indeed such bizarre strongholds. When you first enter the city, they ask you questions, and if you answer incorrectly, they won't let you in,"
Zhang Chuyang said, as Wang Zhu next to him just smiled without a word.
"What kind of questions do they ask?" Lin Xiuyuan asked curiously.
