Black Wind Village.
It was hidden behind this mountain slope, roughly fifteen miles away.
Ji Qingwu quietly lifted a corner of the carriage curtain.
The village was far more opulent than Ji Qingwu had imagined.
It didn't look like a den of thieves, but more like an ancient city that had risen from the sands, only to be abandoned and later occupied by bandits.
There were even people hawking their wares on the street, carrying baskets filled with colorful red and green snacks and various trinkets. It didn't look all that different from an ordinary village.
The only difference was that there were no women or children; everyone they passed on the road was a big, burly man.
Ji Qingwu and Chunhua were taken to a room. The little bandit must have been a minor leader in this village; he called someone over and had a water kettle and some flatbread sent in.
