Ling Lan secretly snuck into the village. By now, the inside of the village was a sea of blood, a true hell on earth. Quite a number of the villagers had died on the roads or in their doorways, every one of them with their eyes wide open, staring sightlessly at their ruined village, unable to be at peace. Their facial expressions differed — there was fear, despair, and even some with a sort of speechless grief and indignation ... perhaps they were filled with bitter hate, wondering why this catastrophe would befall them when they had just been peacefully living out their lives ...
Along her way, Ling Lan crouched down, silently closing the eyes of one of the villagers who had died a traumatic death. Right then, there was not a speck of emotion in Ling Lan's gaze. It was as calm as water, and a rush of terrifyingly cold air was emanating from her body.
