As the paper figure Xiao Ran had blown away disappeared into the vast night, swallowed by wind and snow,
the wind around the guesthouse seemed to turn suddenly sharp. The snowflakes, which had been falling fairly steadily, began to whirl wildly, while a bone-piercing chill, carrying icy grit, spun in from every direction toward Hong Xing Guesthouse.
The lamp outside the guesthouse flickered. Its light seemed blindingly bright now; whereas before it could only be seen from within a few hundred meters, it was now clearly visible through the snow from a kilometer away.
Golden Toad Son sat cross-legged on a chair, resting with his eyes closed. Sensing the sudden change in the air, he didn't even raise his eyelids. He merely curled his lip and snorted at Xiao Ran, who stood by the window. "You really are a nasty piece of work."
Xiao Ran grinned and casually shut the window, shutting out most of the cold wind. Yet that unseen chill still seeped in through the cracks.
He seemed utterly unconcerned. "It's business. The lights were so dim—who could see them? I'm just helping him attract customers."
He went to the table and poured himself a cup of hot water. "We paid four thousand underworld coins to stay here. We can't leave without figuring out what kind of god this place is worshipping, can we?"
Some might think Xiao Ran was making a fuss over nothing.
But when you were out in the jianghu, not knowing how things worked around you was what made you a clueless fool. Someone could sell you without your even realizing it, and you'd probably still be helping them count the money.
Wu Man was squatting on the floor, cheerfully pulling several prepared cuts of meat from what seemed like a bottomless spatial container.