Dragon Head Town

The minibus rattled along a gray street. Low buildings lined the road, their faded colors giving them an old-fashioned look.

No, "old-fashioned" wasn't quite right. It was more like a feeling of being left behind.

Nestled beneath towering mountains, Dragon Head Town had a strange blend of human society and wilderness. It was unmistakably old and poor, yet somehow it felt as though the place ought to remain just as it was for a long, long time, preserving things that had long since disappeared from the big cities.

Yu Xing had been leaning bonelessly against the comfortable sofa on the plane. Now he'd been downgraded to a hard seat on a minibus that creaked and rattled.

There was no room for luggage this time, either. His little suitcase was wedged between his legs, while the bigger cases were piled up in the aisle. He had the window seat now.

Zhao Yijiu was still sitting beside him, one hand resting on top of the luggage and the other on his thigh, his fingers tapping away unconsciously.

The bus was packed and noisy.

They'd transferred twice, and this should be the last leg of the journey. Once they reached the stop, there would probably be only two ways to get any closer to their destination: rent a car or walk.

With the bus so crowded and the atmosphere completely different from the plane's, Zhao Yijiu had slipped into his usual state of alertness. His expression was gloomy and quiet, and he had the air of someone best left alone.

Some loud locals... or perhaps people from nearby towns, were chatting in a dialect that was hard to understand. Some wore unfashionable everyday clothes, while others were dressed in ethnic garments. Their features were different from those of people in the south, too.