After subtly rebuffing Jiang Xia, An Ning still took An Guoming on two more laps. 'Can't rush things, it has to be a gradual process.'
"Little Sis... just drag me home."
An Guoming didn't want to take another step.
Upholding the fine virtue of respecting others' wishes, An Ning grabbed An Guoming by the collar and dragged him all the way home.
A villager heading out to the fields in the thick morning fog saw a blurry figure dragging a "corpse" away.
"Good heavens! Captain—!"
By the time Sun Dazhuang was called over, several villagers, armed with hoes and shovels, had followed the clear drag marks in the dirt all the way to the An's house.
"Captain, is there a fight?"
An Ning, who happened to be at the door, saw the expressions on the captain and his group, and the weapons they were carrying. She smoothly grabbed a wooden club from beside the door, hoisted it onto her shoulder, and asked, "Who are we fighting?"
"No, no, no, just put that down first."
