They crept forward stealthily for the last part of their journey, there was still a distance of a few hundred meters to the Miao stockade village.
Wen Leyang and the brothers Bushuo and Buzuo had hunkered down with their bodies almost touching the ground, resembling a gigantic lizard crawling stealthily on the hunt for its prey. Their movements could not be detected yet they were moving continuously, almost merging their bodies and the surrounding terrain into one. The Qing Miao clansmen’s posture was even stranger than theirs, they lay sideways on the ground like a fish which had lain dormant without moving. Every once in a while, they would swing their legs and scurry forward for a great distance with a swooshing sound, then they would lay dormant once again.
A paper talisman bigger than a person’s face was glued to the old monk’s forehead as he followed closely behind Wen Leyang, urging them to crawl faster.
