Under the somewhat grey sky, the color of blood red was striking, giving an eerie feeling, as if a pool of blood were spread out below.
The village was not the harmonious place they had imagined, with the innocent laughter of children, the kind faces of women, and the weathered expressions of honest men. But none of these were present. In their minds, the village should have been bustling with activity, where everyone gathered together after meals, gossiping about this and that family, without the cunning found in outsiders, all very simple-hearted.
It really should be like Liao Ya, with her kind and sensible demeanor. But now, the village was desolate. The day had just started to darken, yet the people passing by were all hurrying, as if they were in a rush to get home.
Lin Yong casually grabbed a man as thin as a bamboo pole and asked, "Brother, could you tell me where Liao Ya's house is?"
