Avoiding the car being smashed, Ling Chengyan found herself without any weapons in hand.
Zhao Dahu, both startled and anxious, shouted out, "Commander!"
"Go!" In the instant Ling Chengyan shouted the single word, her body leaned back, dodging a pickaxe that swung by.
The heavy pickaxe carried a low whooshing sound as it brushed past her face; if she hadn't dodged in time, it would have left her seriously injured, if not dead.
From the tools these people held—shovels, pickaxes, and other farm implements—it was clear they were local residents. Ling Chengyan initially refrained from using force, not expecting that these people had long blackened their hearts.
Their attacks were ruthless, clearly accustomed to violence and murder. They were far from the honest and simple farmers they once were.
