But it wasn't an enemy. They were barely old acquaintances—the middle-aged couple who had planted plum trees all over the hill below.
They carried an oil lamp. The sturdy middle-aged man's right hand was behind his back, gripping a shovel as they approached the back of the hill with unease. He barked, "Who's there!"
"Brother, it's me."
Xu Lai spoke in a gentle voice, standing up with his teeth gleaming immaculately white in the moonlight.
"It's that cultivator! The young master!"
The beautiful woman's expression relaxed.
The tension on the sturdy man's face eased, and he no longer grasped the shovel tightly.
After all, the sight of a sedan chair and several figures near the four graves on the back of the hill was truly chilling in the middle of the night. That's why they had come up to check.
"Where's Niuniu?" Xu Lai looked behind them.
