The old man pulled the three of them a few steps into the house, then glanced back outside twice. Only after making sure nothing had followed them did he turn around and ask in a low voice,
"What are you three young people doing here this late at night? You've got some nerve."
Before Wen Ning and the others could explain,
the old man's eyes darted about, and he put on an expression that said he had already seen right through them. He pointed at them.
"I know! You're here to strike it rich, aren't you? Let me tell you, this village hasn't been peaceful lately! Don't listen to those rumors outside. They'll get you hurt!"
The more he spoke, the more worked up he became, until his spit was practically spraying Wen Ning's face.
Wen Ning stepped back half a pace. He had no desire to get caught in that shower of spit, and tried to cut in.
"Sir..."
The old man gave him no chance, waving a hand.
"Stop calling me sir every other word. I'm not finished! You young people have more guts than sense, and your lives are as fragile as paper. Do you really think you can stroll around the village at night and stumble into easy money? I'm telling you, the strange things happening here can kill you!"
Having finished, the old man paused to catch his breath.
Wen Ning opened his mouth. Finally catching the old man between breaths, he hurried to speak. If he waited until the man caught his breath, he would never get another chance.
"Sir, do you know what happened to this village?"
The old man took offense at that and glared at Wen Ning.
"What kind of question is that, boy? Is there anything in this village that