"I'm leaving!"
On the hillside, Zhao Jiaqi waved at the villagers reluctantly.
During the months she had spent here, she had truly grown fond of this tranquil little mountain village.
These recluses, undisturbed by the outside world, still adhered to the traditional ways of men tilling the fields and women weaving.
There was just one thing she couldn't accept—the terrifying Sky Lantern ritual from earlier today.
It involved coating someone in kerosene, hanging them upside down on a pole—the screams amidst the flames were etched into everyone's genes.
The horrific deaths of Sun Yuying and her son also ensured that no one dared to violate the clan's rules again.
She believed that for the next few years, no one would venture near the ancestral graves.
"Are you sure you don't want them to escort you out? Last time, Lin Fan and I were trapped for a long time before we used that guy to find an exit!"
