After the carriage carrying Xiao'er had traveled some distance from the village, Xiao'er asked Zhao Yong to stop.
Then she instructed Zhao Yong to sneak back and have a few words with the village chief.
That night, under the high and refreshing autumn sky, all the stars had disappeared. Only a cold star twinkled in the northern sky. The bright moon hung high in the ink-blue night, quietly sprinkling silver light.
On the village path, under the mottled tree shadows, two figures sneaked around, each carrying two wooden barrels, running towards the bamboo forest of the village.
"Why not just burn these barrels to get rid of them once and for all? Why do you need to throw them so far away?"
"Dad, you don't understand. I'm just worried that the old witch won't be able to figure out whom it was, and then she might suspect me, right? If I leave the barrels in the neighboring village, there will surely be people who love a bargain picking them up, right?"