A massive opening gaped above the village, through which a dazzling light shone down.
As he drew closer, the potent smell of burning charcoal washed over him. Zheng Xiu noticed numerous crude houses built into the inner walls. The center of the village was an open space, where black smoke billowed from the chimneys of workshop after workshop, accompanied by the sounds of bellows and hammering iron.
Well-forged weapons were piled haphazardly on racks. Rows of Ghost Head Sabers, polished to a brilliant shine, reflected a terrifying, cold glint.
In one corner of the village, a pile of something lay covered by a thick, waterproof tarp. A dozen or so bandits were lugging heavy plates of Armor toward that same corner.
Xie Yunliu saw Zheng Xiu looking around, clapped him on the shoulder from behind, and flashed a knowing smile. "Don't stare at things you're not supposed to see."
