Yang Fan really didn't see Mr. Fan as the kind of person who, when others are overly enthusiastic, doesn't know how to refuse.
This old man is not at all polite to him.
Yang Fan thought, he is quite enthusiastic towards Mr. Fan too.
The night wind howled, like the wailing of ghosts and wolves.
The already somewhat dim moonlight shyly hid behind the clouds, stubbornly refusing to show its enchanting face to the earth, causing the pitch-black ground to seem even darker, almost to the point where you couldn't see your hand in front of your face.
Under the illumination of a strong flashlight, the two of them slowly ascended the mountain, neither hurried nor slow.
Not long after entering the woods, Yang Fan suddenly stopped, turned his ear and listened, and then asked puzzledly, "Old man, did you hear something just now?"
"No, are you hearing things?" Mr. Fan asked, turning back.
