The group of them caught the attention of a man with salt-and-pepper hair in the pavilion.
He watched Gu Mian's group for a good while. Just as Xia Jianren was about to lose his patience and ask what he was staring at, the man sitting on the stone stool finally spoke. "You folks are here to hike the mountain too, huh? A few days ago, a group of young people about your age also came here to hike."
An idea crossed Xia Jianren's mind. "Were there about thirty-odd of them, arriving in a large vehicle?"
"Yes, that's right," the man nodded. "They stopped here when they passed by, and a dozen or so got out to stretch their legs. They all looked quite happy. But I heard later their vehicle overturned, and more than thirty people died. Several are still missing."
Xia Jianren swallowed hard. He didn't dare say he was a colleague of those thirty-odd people.
