As an old hunter, Luo Hu had an unusual keenness for danger. Yet, considering they were all his son's friends, he deemed them trustworthy and did not expose his suspicion. Ghost Hand and the others were secretly astonished as they exchanged glances. They hadn't expected Luo Zheng's father to be so perceptive—it was truly fitting for an old hunter to have such extraordinary intuition—they couldn't help but develop a deep interest in Luo Hu and smiled as they walked into the house.
The room was not small, with a two-story height and arranged in a grid pattern. The living room was in the center with connected rooms on both sides. Besides the necessary tools for daily life and furniture, there wasn't much else. The ceiling was made of wooden planks with round logs as beams, and there was a swallow's nest above, from which several newly hatched baby swallows chirped away, capturing everyone's attention. Such a sight was impossible to see in the city.
