The village was quiet, with the occasional barking of dogs and crowing of roosters. Lights would occasionally come on from a house, and children would murmur in their sleep, adding to the tranquility of the village.
Under the moonlight, two dark figures stumbled and helped each other along the dirt path to the village entrance. Just as they were about to enter the village, one of them stopped and pulled the person supporting him into the shade of a large tree.
"We can't go into the village."
The village in front of me was quiet and peaceful, but as one house lit up, the lights in the village gradually lit up like stars falling into the haystack.
"What's going on?"
Where the two had just stood, a group of people moved slowly toward the village, their lights shining like a silent yet glorious welcome to a victorious army.
It was the family of Xiao Hu who had just been buried.
The returning procession lacked the coffin that had carried them there. The returning people moved with sluggish steps and slow, as if their souls had been ripped away, leaving only stiff shells. It was as if they had sent away their very souls during the funeral procession.
"You wait here, I'll go back and find Rong Yue." Yan Chenghuan looked at the slow-moving group and put Zhang Xu on a big tree nearby. "You wait for me here, don't move around, I'll be back soon."
"Are you alright with your injuries?"
"It's nothing. Besides, if I don't go find someone, am I supposed to let someone like you who can't do anything go?" Yan Chenghuan sneered, and his figure instantly disappeared into the dark moonlight.
Zhang Xu scratched his head, feeling a little ashamed. In this world, compared to these people who could fly to the sky at the drop of a hat, he was just an ordinary mortal, and seemed somewhat useless.
"Xuxu, you could learn some formations! I think you have a real talent for it!" A bright green head popped out of Zhang Xu's arms, looking thoughtfully in the direction Yan Chenghuan had left. "Yan Chenghuan has a good eye, you really do have talent!"
"Little Mumu, you're awake!" Hearing this voice, Zhang Xu was so surprised she almost fell off the tree. Luckily, Little Mumu caught her.
"I slept for so long, I'm so tired." Little Mumu yawned and sat on Zhang Xu's shoulder. "You're clearly very talented, why don't you want to learn?"
Zhang Xu chuckled and ruffled Xiao Mumu's hair: "That's all what you guys say. Actually, I'm really stupid and can't learn it."
Little Mumu tilted its head, puzzled. It was a tree spirit, a spiritual herb, and could see people's talents. For example, Yan Chenghuan's talent was wind and thunder, which it saw as green and purple; Rong Yue's was water and ice, which it saw as blue and white; Zhang Xu, though appearing as a vast expanse of white, had faint streaks of dark green mixed within it—wasn't that a talent for learning formations? Why did it say she was stupid?
Zhang Xu didn't say anything; perhaps she herself didn't know what she was afraid of.
The book Sixty-Five mentioned had a history of failures, and the persona she had been trying to maintain collapsed abruptly after Yan Chenghuan recognized her, causing the plot to deviate somewhat from the original work. She had a feeling that Sixty-Five was hiding something, something that must be related to her journey home.
She always had a nameless fear that if she really started to adapt to this world, she would drift further and further away from her original world, and she might never be able to go back. Whenever she thought of this, she felt like she was falling into an endless abyss.
"But..." Little Mumu wanted to say something, but suddenly turned into a seed and shrank into Zhang Xu's arms.
Sensing Xiao Mumu's unusual behavior, Zhang Xu covered her sleeve and became nervous. Yan Chenghuan had not yet returned, and Xiao Mumu's condition clearly indicated that a stranger had approached.
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