The vendor let out an odd laugh, "Whether there's a well or not, you'd know once you go in."
"Thanks for the tip." I sensed the deep aning in his words, thanked him, and then turned towards the Corpse-Driving Inn.
Apart from the vendor's guidance, Patchwork Man also confessed that Xiao Li had been taken to a place full of zombies.
Behind , the vendor asked with a sinister laugh, "You bought the sweet soup, aren't you going to take a sip? Don't let it go to waste."
"No need, keep it for yourself." I tightened my grip on the oil-paper umbrella, certain that the vendor wasn't a demon, but I still couldn't help feeling scared of him.
It felt as though he, although living, carried an eerie chill of decay, more terrifying than the dead.
"Gulp gulp…"
Suddenly, I heard the vendor gulping the soup loudly from behind .
He really was drinking the soup!!
Wasn't it supposed to be for the water demon?
The thought of the dead hand in that soup made my stomach churn, and I felt so nauseated that I could barely walk.
Without realizing it, I had arrived at the front of the Corpse-Driving Inn.
White lanterns hung in a row on the inn's façade, all four glowing brightly.
They emitted a faint white light, swaying in the wind and rain.
Standing in front of the firmly shut wooden door, I hesitated only for a mont before knocking.
I was indeed worried that the people inside the inn might be in league with those from Barbarian Village.
Knocking on the door like this could very well be walking into a trap.
But then I thought, no venture, no gain.
"Who is it, looking for lodging in the dead of night, don't you know it's past Hai Hour and we don't accommodate guests then?"
An stooped old crone opened the door, holding an oil lamp in her hand, only reaching up to my stomach.
Looking up and seeing my face, the deeply wrinkled old crone suddenly asked, "Girl, what's your relation to Yan Hua?"
"(⊙o⊙)... I... my grandmother..." even though she doesn't acknowledge as her granddaughter.
I was startled and stuttered in response to the old woman's question.
It was too strange; the old woman looked unfamiliar.
Yet just at first glance, she could see the connection between Yan Hua and .
The old woman gave a cold laugh, "I thought so, the granddaughter of that decrepit old Lin Huan, no wonder you look just like Yan Hua did when she was young. Speak up, what brings you to this crone's place in the middle of the night?"
"To... to stay over..." I was inexplicably intimidated by the old woman's aura, stamring and trembling before her.
The old woman's attitude was very dismissive, "A mber of the Lin Family, exorcists, seeking lodging in this wretched place? Who would believe that?"
"…" I was wracking my brain trying to concoct a reason to stay at the inn.
The old woman turned and said, "Co in, it's windy outside, don't catch a cold."
"…" I scratched my head, quietly following behind her.
What's going on?
I was confused; was she welcoming , or not?
One mont, mocking and jeering, the next, showing concern.
I had just stepped inside the inn when the door behind slamd shut with a loud bang.
I was nearly scared into a heart attack.
From upstairs, a guest yelled angrily, "Granny Long, making such a racket in the middle of the night, how is anyone supposed to sleep?"
"What's there to yell about, there are guests checking in, if you want to stay, stay, if not, pack up and get lost," Granny Long cursed loudly.
The shouting guest stood in the upstairs corridor, and I glanced up to see it was the burly man who had kidnapped the girl for the River God, instantly breaking out in a cold sweat.
If I were recognized at this mont, wouldn't that lead to a fight?
I didn't even have anything on for self-defense.
The burly man, however, ducked his head, completely failing to notice , and sheepishly returned to his room, still muttering, "Running a business like this, so fierce and threatening, bound to go out of business eventually."
"What's your na? How many nights are you staying? Do you want a room facing east or south? Where's your man?" Granny Long put down the oil lamp, flicked the abacus with one hand, and with the other, took a brush to record in a ledger.
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