Only by killing them "clean" could it be called "cleaning up."
Zheng Xiu's subsequent silence made Xie Luohe realize he didn't like hearing about such things. Xie Luohe's brows furrowed slightly, and with an inward sigh, he said no more on the matter.
After entering the Valley, the walls on either side gradually opened up, revealing a spacious area. It was another world inside.
The inhabitants of Richan Valley, a people of the Great Desert, called themselves the Sun Tribe.
When hundreds of Tribe members—men and women, young and old—emerged cheerfully from one simple mud hut after another to welcome Xie Luohe, Zheng Xiu felt dazed, as if he had been transported to some primitive society.
Most of the Tribe's men were bare from the waist up, wearing pants made of animal hide. Their bodies were adorned with colorful patterns, painted on with a mixture of animal blood. The women, in contrast, covered only their chests and lower bodies, leaving them lightly clad.
