Chu Mu naturally knew nothing of the conversation in Mingxin Hall.
At that moment, he walked down the street on high alert. The blade had not left its sheath, but his hand was already clenched tight around the hilt.
Blade or fist—either could come in a single thought.
The direction Chu Mu was heading was his own residence, while behind him lay the archway in North Town. Two completely opposite directions, which did let Chu Mu feel a little more at ease.
After all, in Nanshan Town, even if something happened, the only ones capable of stirring up a storm were those few "rebels" from Qili Village.
And the White-Robed Man was still in Nanshan Town. With the lesson from last time, the chances of those "rebels" kicking up wind and rain in town were clearly not high.
The greatest possibility was still the archway in North Town.
Chu Mu looked back. Beneath the night curtain, the snow lay vast and white, so his line of sight was not too badly restricted, but the distant archway was still hard to make out. He could only see clusters of firelight flickering, and faintly, figures moving about.
"Am I just jumping at shadows?"
Chu Mu frowned. He had just turned his head back when an abnormality at the corner of his eye made his pupils suddenly shrink. Blood!
Not far ahead of him, amid that glaring expanse of white, pitted patches of blood were clearly reflected in his eyes.
His gaze shifted. In the dimness, clothing belts appeared; several corpses also clearly surfaced in Chu Mu's field of vision.
Clang! By instinct, Chu Mu drew his saber.
The cold wind was like a blade, howling wildly, yet before him there was still nothing at all.
Chu Mu advanced with extreme caution, his