Yanshui River, thick fog, aboard a small spirit boat.
Water Yama rowed at the bow. Xie Liu stood at the stern with his sword in his arms, staring darkly at Mo Hua and the other two.
Ouyang Feng was tending to his wounds. Hua Qianqian pressed her lips tightly together, her gaze somewhat uneasy.
Mo Hua, on the other hand, looked full of curiosity, glancing left and right as though he were out on an excursion, admiring the scenery on both sides of the river.
Only, it was night, and the fog was thick.
There was not a scrap of scenery around for him to see.
Mo Hua asked, "Hey, where exactly are we going?"
A vein throbbed on Xie Liu's forehead.
Mo Hua's relaxed, even faintly cheerful demeanor set his heart ablaze.
It was as if, among this group, Water Yama were merely the boatman rowing, he were the sword-bearing guard, and Mo Hua were some young master out for a jaunt, asking where they were going to have fun.
Did this damn brat even understand the situation he was in?
Did he have no sense of it at all?
Xie Liu truly wished he could split him in half with one slash.
But he could not kill him yet.
He did need hostages, and when they reached that place, he needed to bring a few living people along in case they came in handy.
Xie Liu suppressed the killing intent in his heart and could only temporarily let Mo Hua prance about before his eyes.
Seeing that Xie Liu ignored him, Mo Hua turned to look toward the bow.
Water Yama was rowing.
Mo Hua watched Water Yama for a while, then said, "You only have one arm, yet you row quite well. Did you often row boats