That night, Song Zhuyu informed Rui Ye that he wouldn't be staying. He decided to spend the night at the village so that he could experience the obnoxious cry of the baby firsthand.
The overcast sky was shrouded in dark swirling clouds, suffusing the air with a pervasive chill that seemed to freeze the airways. Loud crickets filled the silence of the night, their incessant chirping akin to the symphony of an orchestra's opening stage.
