Speak of the Devil

The team had assembled. With Old Huang there, they didn't start talking about tonight's deduction right away. Instead, like a tomb-robbing gang, they headed toward the "tomb" quietly and cautiously.

Of course, they didn't go out of their way to claim they were tomb robbers. They neither denied nor confirmed it, letting Old Huang come up with a plausible explanation for himself.

The sun sank lower. The gold light filtering through layer upon layer of tree shadows grew fainter, then vanished completely behind the mountains.

Their shoes crunched through the mountain grass, making a soft rustling sound.

Zhao Mou had figured out where Suan Yu County was and drawn a map, so they quietly made their way toward the spot circled on it.

Along the way, Old Huang's usefulness became clear.

As a local, he'd probably spent plenty of time wandering the outskirts of Guo Long Ridge. He kept pointing out the dangers of the mountains to the team.

There was a stretch of woods up ahead where it was easy to get lost. There was also a marsh somewhere nearby, shrouded in poisonous miasma, that they'd have to go around.

Following the map and Old Huang's warnings, they took a few detours and reached a small tributary where the Ye River flowed into the valley.

The rush of water mingled with birdsong and the chirping of insects, filling the air with the scent of nature.

"This mountain is safer than I expected. Do we really need a guide?" Seeing the stream, the Siren seemed to be in high spirits. She stretched her arms, bent down, and scooped up a handful of water. The cool wetness made her squint with pleasure.

Ah, it felt like the water soothed every spot it touched.

Zhao Yijiu blinked silently, not entirely agreeing.

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