CHAPTER 77: MUSHROOM VILLAGE 27

Wan Qian looked again at the child’s eyes — those eyes rolled completely white with no trace of black stared straight back at her. Wan Qian let out a silent sigh, feeling even more pity for the child.

These eyes clearly looked diseased. Wan Qian vaguely remembered that there was an illness called a cataract, where a white film grows over the eye and blocks vision.

Perhaps this child suffered from that very condition, and maybe that was why his parents didn’t care for him, letting him grow up like this

Thinking this, Wan Qian gently patted the child’s head. In a warm, motherly voice, she tried to teach him, "You mustn’t do things like this again. No one likes pranks like that."

The child looked at her, neither nodding nor speaking.

Wan Qian frowned. Could this child be deaf too?

Just as Wan Qian was feeling even more pity for the child because of her suspicion, the child suddenly slowly raised a hand and pointed into the collapsed ruins.

Wan Qian looked carefully and clearly saw her familiar bag among the broken walls.

She released the child and walked over, bending down for a closer look. Sure enough, it was the rabbit she’d caught earlier and the bag she’d tied from her jacket to carry mushrooms.

The rabbit looked no different from before, its fur still full and soft, as if it had just died. The mushrooms in the bag were still plump and round, showing no signs of drying out or shriveling.

"So fresh — it should still be edible." Wan Qian muttered softly and skillfully picked up the rabbit and the bag. She didn’t bother to question how the rabbit and bag had ended up here.

At that moment, Hao Shijun and the others also arrived.

The pitch-black little brat glanced back at Hao Shijun and the others, then immediately dove into the ruins.

No one even saw clearly how it moved — its whole body turned into nothing but a blur.

That narrow hole, which looked like only a cat could squeeze through, somehow let it slip inside.

"Hey! Why are you running!" Wan Qian froze for a moment, then quickly chased after it, poking her head into the narrow hole to look inside, but she couldn’t see any trace of the child.

Wan Qian didn’t think too much about it. She reached out and grabbed the broken wall debris with force. With one strong push, she flipped it over. A cloud of dust rose up.

"Huh?" She let out a puzzled sound. Had she seen it wrong just now? Maybe he hadn’t run this way at all. Beneath the wall was nothing but emptiness — not a single trace of the child.

Wan Qian flipping a whole wall with her bare hands left everyone present dumbfounded.

Did they... did they see that right?

Hao Shijun rubbed his eyes and looked at Wan Qian again. Sure enough, Wan Qian’s hand was still resting on the edge of the broken wall.

Perhaps finding it too cumbersome to hold with only one hand, Wan Qian braced herself and pushed again—this time with both hands.

"Boom!" With an ear-splitting crash, a cloud of gray dust and sand erupted.

A few people nearby who didn’t dodge in time got dust in their eyes and hurriedly waved it away.

When the dust settled, they saw that the entire broken wall had been thrown aside by Wan Qian. She was still bent over, searching for the little child that had squeezed in just now.

"Huh? Where is he? I clearly saw him go in here."

"Where did he go? Hey, hey, hey, come out."

Hao Shijun: "..."

Fang Minglan: "..."

Xie Jia: "..."

Wang Hui: "..."

The four of them were all speechless, watching Wan Qian crouch down, rummaging through the ruins.

For a moment, they suddenly understood why Wan Qian could survive being attacked by two ghost or monster at once.

Isn’t there a possibility — that sometimes, even ghost and monster feel afraid when they see her?

In the end, Wan Qian found nothing. With visible disappointment, she carried her rabbit and her mushroom bag and left the ruins.

"Sigh, kids these days..." Probably they were so scared of being caught and punished that they ran away so fast.

While Wan Qian was rummaging through the rubble, Hao Shijun was observing the ruins as well. Compared to Wan Qian, he easily spotted a set of bones half-buried among the withered grass and scattered remains.

Drawing on his professional knowledge, Hao Shijun judged that the skeleton most likely belonged to a child around seven or eight years old.

Although that pitch-black figure had vanished quickly, Hao Shijun, by recalling its appearance and comparing the details, realized that this skeleton could very well match that shadowy figure.

Just as a strange shiver of dread rose in Hao Shijun’s chest at this discovery, he caught sight of Wan Qian out of the corner of his eye.

That figure so strong and powerful — instantly put him at ease, that the bone-deep fear disappeared in an instant.

The group returned to where the memorial tablets were placed. The three sticks of incense had burned down to their ends, the scarlet flames flickering and casting a strange unease in everyone’s eyes.

Looking at the four memorial tablets placed above, the people didn’t know what to do.

When they came in, the middle-aged man had told them that if they saw tablets, it was the kids’ prank and they should just ignore it.

But seeing their own names offered up on tablets made everyone uneasy.

Just as everyone was at a loss for what to do, Wan Qian suddenly reached out and grabbed all those memorial tablets in one swift motion.

"Wan Qian?" everyone thought in alarm. Wouldn’t something happen if she just grabbed them like that?

Maybe because Wan Qian’s feat of lifting a wall had left too deep an impression, everyone stood frozen in place, watching Wan Qian’s actions without daring to move.

Only Fang Minglan asked softly, "What are you going to do?" Her tone carried an indescribable caution.

Wan Qian glanced at them, her expression very serious and solemn.

"I know — you all saw it too. That child is pitiful. I feel for him, just like you do."

"But when you do something wrong, someone has to teach him it’s wrong. This is evidence — I’m taking it out to show people, so they’ll know what that little brat did."