"So, it has finally started..."
In the deep, silent night, everyone in the village had already gone to sleep, but Hu Ma quietly took Little Hongtang out of the village. Utilizing the abilities of the Heaven Measuring Boots, they traveled over a hundred miles to the edge of Old Yin Mountain, to a place filled with neglected, chaotic graves.
He sat cross-legged among the desolate graves, listening intently to the wind and the eerie ghostly cries, seemingly quite absorbed.
At times, to hear more clearly, he would rest his head against a grave mound.
Little Hongtang squatted beside him, her small hands propping up her cheeks. She didn't understand why, after returning to the village, he neither worked the fields properly nor slept soundly in the house. Every two days, he had to come to this heap of graves. What was the point of listening?
