Having ensured the safety of his own home, Shen Wenchen left behind only Shi Tou and Ada to guard it while he, accompanied by three other people, stepped out of the courtyard door.
After a night of fierce struggles, the eerie orange hue gradually faded, and the sky began to show a hint of the light before dawn.
People in the entire village collectively heaved a sigh of relief.
Gazing at the insect corpses all over the ground, Dashan furrowed his brows, making his fingers run over his dry tobacco pipe incessantly. If it wasn't for his wife's strict prohibition against smoking, why wouldn't he have had a few pouches by now?
He had lived for over forty years and experienced locust plagues, but his memory of those locusts was limited to their gnawing grains and at worst, leaves off trees.
How did the locusts of this plague decide to chew even his courtyard doors?