They set off again.
For the rest of the way, basically no one talked.
Yan Gui's wound was still aching. Those scenes and words from the villagers just now kept echoing in his mind. He had neither the energy nor the mood to speak.
The three with Mo Shangjun only handled the simplest communication.
Mo Shangjun had to report every coordinate, every detail of the terrain, every risk in the villages. The whole way, apart from rushing on, she was making reports.
Before dawn broke, they passed by a village. The danger there was relatively serious, but the people in charge were all alive. They quickly gathered the uninjured young and able-bodied men and had already started rescue and relief. Faced with Mo Shangjun and the others' reassurance and instructions, they showed understanding, and even burst into tears seeing these young, exhausted people rush over.
