Mo Yuan had returned from picking herbs.
Mo Yuan saw that Shen Yijia had crushed the poisonous herbs she picked. She was going to make drugs with them.
Mo Yuan was speechless.
It was rare for Shen Yijia to see a different expression on her face.
She rubbed her nose and felt an inexplicable sense of accomplishment.
When Song Jingchen returned, he saw from afar that the courtyard was pitch-black, almost blending into the night.
He frowned. Usually, even if Shen Yijia fell asleep first, she would leave a light at the entrance of the courtyard and the house.
Thinking of the Luo family that he had just dealt with, his heart skipped a beat. He quickened his pace. South Wind and Thirty Thousand quickly followed.
There was no one in the courtyard, not even Furball, who usually lay at the entrance.
Song Jingchen rushed into the main room. Even without lighting the lamps, he knew that there was no one in the room.
