The sound of footsteps crunching on the snow outside was gradually fading away.
Fang Hong gazed through the frosted glass, a thin layer of mist clinging to it. His breath fogged the glass further, creating patterns. He had to wipe it with his hand and tilted his head to get a better view outside.
After a moment, he withdrew his gaze and turned around—the room behind him was dim and dusty, suggesting it had been a shop closed for a long time. The shelves on the walls were empty, leaving its previous business unknown.
"They've gone far." He looked at the other two and whispered.
The three of them were silent for a moment.
Fang Hong exhaled sharply: "I fear there might be even more people by the south gate; indeed, someone was following us earlier—" Fang Hong looked at Enan: "Luckily, we listened to you; otherwise, we'd be in danger now."
"We just sail in the same boat," Enan also seemed relieved: "But there're people everywhere outside, does Mr. Captain have any idea?"
