He Zhilan looked in the direction Chen Yun pointed and saw a wounded woman tightly holding a child, who was probably only eight years old, standing hunched in a corner.
"Have they been standing like this since the incident?" asked He Zhilan.
"Yes! They haven't even ventured out for a peek," Chen Yun nodded, somewhat irritated, "No one, old or young, will utter a word when spoken to, as if we were going to eat them."
"Can you let your people step out for a while? I would like to try to talk to them," He Zhilan thought for a moment and said, "As a woman alone, they should be less guarded against me, maybe I can get them to talk."
Chen Yun hesitated, but agreed with He Zhilan's logic. He nodded his head, ordered his staff to retreat, "We will all be outside, if anything happens, just shout loudly, and we'll rush in."
"A woman and a child, what danger could I be in?" He Zhilan laughed, and then she went in by herself.
