It was an overstatement to call that place a village.
After Lin Sanjiu and Ji Shanqing came down from the mountains cautiously, they snuck into the village made of a few dilapidated houses under the guise of night.
Moonlight came down from the clear night sky dyeing everything in sight with a tinge of white. The serenity of the surroundings made them feel as if their narrow escape from the battling gods had happened centuries ago.
The 'houses' were basic wooden huts. Some of them had straw roofs while others didn't even have a roof. When they look into a house, they saw a bed covered with leaves. There were sporadic heaps of ashes near the entrance clearly left behind by previous man-made fires. The door and walls had already been stained black. The few pieces of wood and a saw on the floor hinted that the owner had abandoned them on impulse mid-way through his work.
