The Astarte of the B

The weary farmer on the dike looked up; passersby were the rare and precious topic of conversation in their impoverished lives.,Sarcasm turned to panic, the farmer cried out, as if he had seen some terrible contagious disease, some horrifying filth, and retreated again and again.,Lan En's face, as pale as ice, showed no sign of change. He spurred his horse forward, "We shouldn't draw attention to ourselves any longer, Bolten. You know what the situation is."。