Qin Cheng and the others watched silently, the youth before them now vastly different from the one they first encountered.
Initially, the other party was calm like a stone, but now, he resembled a knife even more.
Zhang Tongdan was a famously known wilderness man around these parts; many caravans had to pay him a toll fee.
But today, he had died at the hands of an unknown youth.
"He doesn't seem like a city person at all, but more like someone from our wilderness," Qin Yiyi, who had lived for many years in the wilderness and considered herself a part of it, favored the wilds. She brushed off the dust on her clothes with a smile and then asked across the campfire, "Are you hurt?"
"No," Qing Chen shook his head. He took the pistol out of Zhang Tongdan's hand and then looked at Uncle Li Dong, "Teacher, I'm keeping this."
"Hmm," Uncle Li Dong nodded. "You'll need it later. He should have magazines on him too, don't forget."