Two bumpkins squatted atop the wall, staring blankly into space.
Most humans tried their best to avoid being seen squatting, but Iron Ball was a pangolin. To him, appearances were like a shriveled Ant Leg—tasteless to eat, yet a pity to throw away. Squatting was clearly more comfortable than standing.
The other bumpkin was Lu Gui. This failure who could no longer make a living in the Central Plains had flourished among the demonic beasts, unconsciously picking up many habits of four-legged creatures...
The two figures, one large and one small, squatted there for half the night. In the end, they agreed there was no point guarding this place and decided to head back early to discuss countermeasures.
It would take Qing Ling at least two or three days to reach Green Wood Mountain. Do not assume neighbors lived close together; the Southern Wasteland was known for its vast territories, where gazing at a mountain could run a horse to death. The two of them would have to spend two or three days traveling with five hundred demon soldiers.
Iron Ball muttered as he walked.
"What a pity. These Demonic Beasts don't have ancestral graves..."
Lu Gui could not help but feel admiration for his fellow demonic beast. By his own efforts, Iron Ball had forcibly changed the burial customs of the Central Plains, saving many children. The lavish funeral traditions that once exhausted corvée laborers to death had vanished. Now, people either entered the earth in a thin coffin or were cremated to ashes. Grand burials were out of the question—no matter what traps or poisonous fumes lay within, the graves would surely be dug inside out.
He did not dig up thin-skinned coffins, because Iron Ball believed those buried so shabbily were poor folk and had no grudge