Shen Tang asked, "What are you throwing up?"
Zhai Le's handsome face had gone pale as he explained in a low voice, "They probably saw you burying the bodies. So, right after you left, they came over and dug them back up..."
Because she was drunk, Shen Tang failed to understand for a moment.
"What are you taking them back for?"
Zhai Le had shed his usual lightheartedness. Even his smiling, peach-blossom eyes had dimmed, worry hanging from their corners. Yet what he said sent a chill down one's spine: "They were too hungry. What else do you think they'd do?"
He said it outright, and Shen Tang's eyes suddenly widened.
For a long while, she could not utter a word.
"But, but those were people..." Shen Tang looked utterly flustered and bewildered. She unconsciously paced in place, murmuring softly, "How can people... No, they can't! Those were people, their own kind, and they were buried in the ground..."
Qi Shan had brought Shen Tang all the way to Xiaocheng. To suffer less and gather more information, they had traveled along routes that were not especially remote, encountering villages and towns every day or two. The common people lived very difficult lives—barely scraping by, one could say, and only just holding on to the most basic bottom line.
Shen Tang knew such things happened, but she had never witnessed one herself.
Zhai Le, however, was different.
Zhai Le and his cousin Zhai Huan had set out from the southeast. Relying on their excellent skills and seamless teamwork, they dared to poke their noses anywhere. Along the way, they had cleared out several bandit dens and killed multiple batches of vicious criminals. Just as Zhai Le had said, they had acted as righteous heroes and righted wrongs.
Villains were easy enough