They were practically driven out by the village chief wielding a stick.
Awkwardly, the group followed the two men who had monitored them last night on their way out of the village. Even from far away, they could still see the old man standing by the stream, his face full of disdain.
"So, is this village chief really herding ducks?"
"He only has two ducks. Why would he need a five-meter-long stick to herd them? They'd jump into the river on their own."
"I genuinely thought for a moment that the village chief was going to throw the stick right at our faces. Terrifying."
Shang Xiaoyan shuddered suddenly, unsure whether it was the morning chill freezing her or the death glare from the village chief that unnerved her.
"Let's go, let's go. We've got to get back to school this afternoon. This has been awful—only gathering two wild ginsengs on this trip."
