But she still didn't dare relax her guard. So late at night—how could any normal person be running around outside?
When that Taoist came in, the Wolf Fang Club in her hand was more or less pointed straight at him.
Qingyang swept his eyes around the room. All the windows were sealed, only the stairs leading to the second floor were still open.
In the middle there was a small flame burning. A pot was hanging over the fire, something seemed to be stewing inside.
Five or six people were squatting by the fire. When they saw him come in, they, together with the six or seven who had just gone out, all stared at him fixedly.
They all held various homemade weapons in their hands, their eyes full of doubt and wariness.
Qingyang hadn't expected there to be people in here at all, and this many besides. Charging into someone's place in the middle of the night was indeed a bit abrupt.
