"Then I'll trouble you, ma'am."
Fang Mo wore a warm, faultlessly polite smile. His steps were light, as if this really were nothing more than an ordinary visit to relatives.
He even thoughtfully offered the Black Tooth Old Woman an arm to steady her. When his fingertips touched her arm, dry as bark, he didn't pause for even a moment.
The Old Woman gave two dry, cackling laughs, like a rusty saw sawing through rotten wood. Leaning on a cane carved from some unknown animal's leg bone, she turned around with a tremble and led the four of them deeper into the village.
"Follow me."
Fang Mo didn't look back, merely crooked a finger at them.
The Old Woman's back was hunched. Her knees didn't bend as she walked, and her heels never touched the ground. She seemed to float.
Behind them, the villagers who had been sitting stiffly on the stone stools all sprang into motion the moment the four of them set off. There was no
conversation, no coughing—not even the sound of footsteps. It was terrifyingly quiet.
More than a dozen people formed two long lines, trailing the four of them three paces behind, their faces expressionless.
Even when Iron Bull deliberately slowed down, they slowed with him, maintaining that suffocating distance.
Fang Mo followed behind, brazenly taking in the eerie village.
"Ma'am, you're pretty spry. Have you practiced light-footed kung fu?" Fang Mo asked casually, though his hand never left the hilt of his blade.
The Old Woman didn't turn around. Her hoarse voice drifted to them on the wind. "The village roads aren't easy to walk. Walk them long enough, and the soles of your feet grow tough."
After passing through two dead-silent alleys, they came to a mud-brick house. Half the courtyard wall had