Just as Li Lingling was successfully intervening.
On the other end of the shelter.
Teacher Black Circle and his colleagues weren't achieving great results with their work.
Or rather—they had no results at all.
The night was deep, and the moonlight was dim. The lights of flashlights outside flickered like tired eyes, weakly piercing the stagnant air filled with the scent of earth and damp mold.
The shadows of the tents twisted into distorted shapes underfoot, resembling a silent mockery of sorts.
Teacher Black Circle and his colleagues walked despondently through the narrow pathways between the tents.
"What's going on? Wasn't it easy for Nan Zhubin to chat with people during the day?" one colleague scratched his head, kicking away a small pebble blocking their way, "Theoretically, people who come out to wander at night should be more brooding, with more desire for venting..."
The colleague's voice was filled with frustration and confusion: "Why is it not working for us?"
