"You two, come with me."
He turned around and led the two of them toward his village.
The young man rubbed his stomach awkwardly. He straightened his back and did not look back.
"Hungry?"
Mo Ruyue had nothing to eat on her, and the young man had already finished the pastries from yesterday.
She returned her coat to Jing Xichen. It wasn't as cold as before.
"I'm not hungry!"
The young man's face was filled with stubbornness.
Mo Ruyue shook her head helplessly. In the young man's eyes, she was his enemy.
After walking for about an hour, they finally found a small village in a mountain depression.
There was no movement in the small village. The air was filled with the smell of blood.
This place had suffered a terrible massacre.
The young man ran all the way back to his home. Looking at his family members lying in a pool of blood, he plopped down on the ground and wailed.
"Father, Mother!"
