It was a stormy night, and it was inevitable that there was a slight chill amidst the din.
Yang Xiaoyun had already opened her eyes when the gale roared. She held the silver spear in her hand and looked around.
Su Mo did not receive any reply. Instead, he swept his gaze over the coffins and glanced at Yang Xiaoyun.
"Not them."
Yang Xiaoyun said softly.
"If it were them, they definitely wouldn't be so aggressive."
As he spoke, he stood up and cupped his fists.
"The two of us were just passing by this place when we suddenly encountered a storm. That's why we came to this village to take shelter.
Come tomorrow morning when the wind and rain have subsided, we will leave immediately. We will not disturb you."
While Su Mo was speaking, Yang Xiaoyun was carefully observing her surroundings. If there were any abnormal movements, she would definitely be able to react in time.
However… there was nothing happening.
