After they came down from Wuyi Mountain, they had been walking continuously for five or six hours to save time.
Chen Delong looked at the three somewhat exhausted figures behind him and lifted his head to spot a small village in the distance.
So he said, "Let's rest ahead. Our shortcut will be faster."
After speaking, he licked his dry, cracked lips and unscrewed the water bottle in his hand, taking a small sip.
"Let's go."
Tui Zi held a stick in his hand, using it to support himself as he moved forward.
Quickly.
They arrived at the small village with only a dozen or so dilapidated buildings.
The village had no sign of life, just ruins and debris.
Most of these buildings were made from clay bricks and blue tiles. After three years of wind and rain, many had collapsed.
However, among them were a few houses made of red brick and concrete, showing damage but not reduced to rubble.
They reached the intersection and looked at the surrounding mountains and forests.
