Meng Yitong was dragged inside. All she saw was a light green, and the plump ears of sorghum swaying gently on the stalks as if in the breeze, then quickly disappeared.,The sorghum field was silent, with only the sound of the wind answering.,At this time, Meng Yao opened her eyes. Her eyes had regained their sparkle, but what lay within them was not the usual warmth, but rather a chilling clarity, a cold composure, and a thirst for blood.。