The night grew deeper.
Ye Chutang and Shen Yanchuan's figures were hidden in the shadows, as if they were about to merge with their surroundings.
Although it was a small mine, the layers of rock had been dug out, and piles of stone made the path difficult to traverse.
Fortunately, furnaces were situated at regular intervals, providing cover and making things easier for Ye Chutang and her companion.
At last, the two arrived at a spot about a hundred meters from the door.
From here, they could clearly see an increase in the amount of scrap iron and dross on the ground.
The foreman in charge of guarding the door held a whip, his expression fierce.
Ye Chutang stared at him for a few seconds, her eyes narrowing slightly.
'This man…'
"He's a trained martial artist."
Shen Yanchuan's voice was extremely low, reaching Ye Chutang's ear.
Ye Chutang raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze.
It seemed they had come to the same conclusion.
