"Two hundred wisps," he murmured, sensing the influx of emotion. "A decent harvest."
He crouched and searched their bodies without much hope. As expected, they carried only a few silvers, a couple of mid grade spirit stones which was probably all their savings, a knife, some stale jerky, and a dirty bottle of wine.
"Run of the mill trash," Han Yu sighed. "Not even worth the effort."
More importantly, he could tell from their clothing, accents, and equipment that they were not connected to Zhao Liumen, nor to any sect. They were simply a group of desperate hunters who robbed travelers to survive. No higher conspiracy was involved.
Han Yu dragged their bodies off the road and tossed them into the underbrush. Animals would feast on them soon. Nobody in the town would question their disappearance either. Bandits like them often died without anyone caring.
He returned to his horse, untied the reins, and continued his journey.
