The village chief and the other men made their way down the mountain and straight to the village.
Mo Ying and Fuhan also followed along to help.
For a time, they walked in silence, the damp path squishing beneath their boots, the mist curling around them. The cries of villagers in the distance echoed faintly, mingling with the dripping rain.
Fuhan glanced at his young master more than once before finally breaking the silence. His voice was low, almost hesitant at first.
"Young Master… forgive me for asking, but… are you perhaps developing feelings for Miss Lin?"
Mo Ying did not reply. His face remained unreadable, his eyes fixed on the muddy path ahead.
But Fuhan was not one to give up so easily. He stepped closer, lowering his voice even more.
