After making a round trip across Shaoyang Mountain, Wei He did not spot a single exotic beast. Instead, he saw quite a few people from Shaoyang Gate.
There were too many of them, so he could not make a move in secret. After wandering around nearby for a while, he quickly left.
However, the large number of Shaoyang Gate disciples out this time allowed Wei He to see clearly that their sect even raised some green-eyed wolfhounds.
Those wolfhounds had an extremely keen sense of smell and had nearly discovered him several times.
Fortunately, he carried plenty of medicinal powder with mixed scents, masking his human smell.
He remained on Shaoyang Mountain until dusk, then returned to Feiye City with his last bit of harvest.
Night was approaching, and as the sun sank in the west, the entire city was dyed a murky yellow.
In the deserted Outer City, a few months ago, he would still have heard sounds of people being beaten in the roadside grass at this hour, or the chatter of street thugs.
Now, there was only silence.
As Wei He walked along the broad streets of the Outer City, one glance was enough to make him feel that the entire street had grown increasingly devoid of human warmth.
There was more and more trash on the ground, mostly things ordinary people did not dare pick up, such as dead people's clothes, chamber pots, and spittoons.
The weather was scorching and plague ran rampant. No one dared casually take such things away, because those who did might already be dead.
Wei He's lonely footsteps echoed continuously along the street.
Creak.
A window in a single-story house to his right suddenly opened a crack. An eye, bloodshot and red, peered out through it.
Thud.
Something was suddenly thrown