"He never goes to the Wu Family Mansion. He doesn't even go near it." The village chief swallowed nervously. "There's a rumor in the village that although he's gone mad, his eyes can see things ordinary people can't."
The village chief spoke in a hushed voice. There was no one nearby except them, yet he still seemed afraid that something might overhear. It made the atmosphere feel tense.
As if to confirm what the village chief had said, after they chose this route, they indeed didn't see the Crazy Beggar again. The whole way was peaceful.
They took a long detour around the village and eventually reached its southern end. The houses here were far worse than those near the village meeting hall. Almost none had a proper courtyard; their walls were made of packed earth, and quite a few had already crumbled.
Many of the houses here stood empty, making the whole area look desolate. Their black wooden doors stood ajar, and as they walked nearby, they felt as though they were being watched—as if pairs of eyes lurked behind every door and window.
"Does anyone still live here?" Du Moyu warily surveyed their surroundings. He had a bad feeling about this place.
They walked a little farther before the village chief stopped and pointed to a dilapidated house. "This is it. The old servant from the Wu family lives here."
Strictly speaking, there was a small yard in front of the shabby house, but it had no walls—not even earthen ones. Instead, dry branches had been stuck into the ground to form a fence around a small patch of land.
There was even an opening in the fence for a gate.
The village chief walked up and called toward the house, "Aunt Wu! Aunt Wu, are you home?"