That night, deep into the night, the burned temple was silent, not a person in sight. The temple was a wooden structure, easily set afire, now reduced to just a frame pillar, standing solitary in the moonlight, exuding a sense of desolation. The monks had long been evacuated, leaving no one to guard the ruin. Meanwhile, a few dark shadows lurked silently in the mountain recesses two kilometers away, observing their surroundings motionlessly—these were Luo Zheng and his returning team.
Luo Zheng gazed at the distant temple with a steady heart, neither sad nor happy. As a pure soldier, Luo Zheng wouldn't consider the cultural heritage of other countries; he focused only on national interests. In pursuit of national interests, he'd be willing to sacrifice even his life, let alone an Yin Country temple.
After a while, Luo Zheng glanced at his watch and murmured, "The brothers are arriving soon, Ghost Hand, go meet them."
