Chapter 270 - The Heinous Fu Yiran
The small island only looked small from a distance. When the boat approached closer, the island seemed to stretch endlessly beyond the horizon.
The boat eventually docked on a sandy stretch of beach.
Fu Yiran helped Sikong Yan off the boat and their feet sank into the soft sand. Sikong Yan glanced back and saw Eighth Brother rowing away. The trusty wooden boat disappeared into the sea mist.
In the distance, the seabirds that followed them from the mainland called out one last time as they swooped into the forest, vanishing from sight.
In the visible distance, a faint path extended from the beach toward the distant forest. The trees ahead cast shifting shadows, obscuring any clear view of what lay within.
Sikong Yan seemed still groggy from his nap aboard the boat. He rubbed his forehead and impatiently said, "Let’s go. There’s a long way ahead."
Fu Yiran nodded, picked up their luggage, and walked ahead.
They made their way through the winding forest path. Occasional shafts of light piercing through the dense canopy, that only deepened the gloomy eeriness of the shadowy path. Despite the secluded setting, the path they took was neither messy nor slippery. The stone steps had been cleared of weeds, fallen leaves, and moss; they were clearly kept clean by regular upkeep.
After walking a bit further, they noticed a faint rustling sound. They approached without stopping and saw a one-legged old man sweeping the stony path.
The old man glanced at them briefly as they passed. It wasn’t until they were shoulder-to-shoulder that he suddenly rasped, "Sand Scourer, you’ll meet a terrible end."
Fu Yiran’s lips curled into a cold sneer, but he walked past and ignored the old man. Sikong Yan frowned slightly and glanced at the sweeper before he continued walking.