CHAPTER 80: MUSHROOM VILLAGE 30

Upon hearing this, the resentment on the middle-aged man’s face instantly vanished. His eyes couldn’t return to normal right away, but his tone became much more friendly.

"So it was Ms. Wan herself who picked these. That truly is a precious gift."

"Oh no, you’re exaggerating," Wan Qian said with a hint of shyness, quickly playing the humble part.

As an entrepreneur, it was inevitable to encounter plenty of flatterers when traveling. Once the farm was running smoothly in the future, such things would only increase. She needed to start adapting to it properly from now on.

Fang Minglan was somewhat surprised that the middle-aged man was so respectful to Wan Qian. Why was that? But she also felt relieved, knowing that she was at least safe for now.

At that moment, Wan Qian suddenly turned and gave Fang Minglan a gentle smile.

Seeing Wan Qian’s smile, Fang Minglan stiffened all over. So, everything was part of Wan Qian’s plan after all?

Wan Qian was thinking too — she hadn’t expected Fang Minglan to be so honest as to tell the middle-aged man clearly who picked the mushrooms, without claiming credit for herself.

Meanwhile, Hao Shijun stepped forward and, seizing the moment, handed the mushrooms to the middle-aged man too.

"These are the gifts I brought, and they were personally picked by Wan Qian too."

When the middle-aged man heard that Wan Qian had picked the mushrooms himself, his face showed a few signs of warmth and enthusiasm. He repeated his earlier words, "So it was Ms. Wan herself who picked these. That truly is a precious gift."

Xie Jia then took her mother Wang Hui’s hand and, like Hao Shijun, also presented the mushrooms.

The middle-aged man repeated those words again in a friendly tone.

However, Hao Shijun was uncertain whether it was just his illusion or not, he felt that as the middle-aged man spoke, it seemed as if each word was grudgingly spat out through clenched teeth.

After everyone had presented their gifts, Wan Qian stuffed the rabbit into the middle-aged man’s arms and patted his shoulder with considerable regard.

"Let’s add this for tonight’s meal. Uh... someone in your house should know how to prepare rabbit, right?"

The middle-aged man held the rabbit stiffly, then after a long moment relaxed somewhat. He nodded to Wan Qian with difficulty, "O-of course."

Wan Qian was quite satisfied. "Then I’m relieved."

The middle-aged man led them into the largest tiled house in the courtyard, telling them to wait in the living room for a while. He then went into a slightly smaller tile-roofed house next door.

Hao Shijun’s gaze followed the man, guessing that might be the kitchen. He thought for a moment and said to Wan Qian, "I’ll go get some fresh air at the door."

Wan Qian waved her hand. "Go ahead."

Hao Shijun stood up and walked to the door. From this angle, he could see the entire courtyard, including the tiled house the middle-aged man had just entered.

Unfortunately, the door of that tiled house was ajar, and he couldn’t see inside. Listening carefully, he heard no sound either.

Hao Shijun felt a bit frustrated. Suddenly, his eyes caught the boy standing in the corner of the yard. He was still holding the leather ball, standing still, quietly watching Hao Shijun.

Hao Shijun was stunned. The boy tilted his head and looked past him toward the person behind him.

Hao Shijun turned his head and saw Fang Minglan stepping out from behind him.

"You?" Hao Shijun asked.

Fang Minglan took a cigarette from a pack, lit it, and exhaled smoke casually. "I told Wan Qian I wanted to come out for a smoke."

At that moment, the boy suddenly walked toward Fang Minglan.

"Sis, I recognize you," the boy said calmly, with a trace of childlike innocence on his face.

"You got that big brother to use one finger to get me a new ball."

Fang Minglan suddenly felt a sharp heat on her finger as burning ash fell onto her hand.

"Nonsense!" Fang Minglan quickly denied.

Hao Shijun glanced at Fang Minglan.

Fang Minglan quickly regained her composure. Although her pale face looked haggard from the torment of the past few days, she was still beautiful.

"Children speak without fear of reproach. Besides, in the realm of ghosts and monsters, all sorts of unexpected things can happen—if you want to point the finger at something, you’ll need to produce evidence," Fang Minglan said with a light laugh.

The boy pursed his lips and said nothing.

Hao Shijun stared at Fang Minglan for a moment before withdrawing his gaze.

No matter what Fang Minglan had done or intended, maintaining a peaceful surface relationship was at least more beneficial than harmful.

Hao Shijun looked again at the yellow mud house in the courtyard. It was so out of place that he had noticed it the moment he came in. His intuition told him it was unusual.

He looked once more at the boy holding the leather ball. "Do you know what that room is used for?" Hao Shijun asked.

The boy nodded slightly.

"What is it used for?" Hao Shijun pressed.

"That’s Third Aunt’s dog room," the boy said, tilting his head again and pressing his lips firmly. "Do you want to see the dog? I heard it’s for the God Worship Festival."

A dog—yes, throughout the village since they arrived, they hadn’t seen a single dog. Hao Shijun was even more suspicious about that room.

He glanced again at the tiled house the middle-aged man entered before. The door was ajar and seemed unlikely to open soon. So he quietly crossed most of the courtyard and approached the yellow mud house’s door.

The door was half open and half closed. The only window was nailed shut. It was very dark inside. Hao Shijun squinted, trying to see inside, but could see nothing.

Hao Shijun reached out his hand, wanting to feel around to see if there was a light he could turn on for illumination.

The next moment, his fingers touched a patch of soft, furry surface, like the fur of some kind of animal.

Before Hao Shijun could pull his hand back, something moist and warm brushed against his hand, leaving behind a bit of sticky liquid.

It was a tongue! Hao Shijun immediately reacted and quickly withdrew his hand.

He turned around, and a face was right at his shoulder, locking eyes with him.

"What are you—doing?"