The Witch of Mount Hua (II)
Soon!
Annie spotted him: a lean man dressed in black, standing with one hand on his sword as he coldly watched the gate of the Mount Hua Sect's rent-collection steward's residence at the east end of town.
He wore a bamboo hat. His brows were sharply defined, his eyes deep-set, and his lips pressed into a thin line. He stood there with one hand resting on a plain, unadorned iron sword.
Faint, fresh bloodstains were scattered on the ground. It looked as if someone had just been wounded and retreated into the courtyard, refusing to come back out.
As for what had actually happened, Annie had no way of knowing.
"..."
(ì_í)
After thinking it over, she ran toward the part of the crowd where the loudest discussion was coming from, hoping to hear what had happened.
"??"
Among the onlookers, an old man selling flatbreads was on tiptoe, craning his neck to see. He still had his carrying pole in hand. He seemed eager to get closer, but not quite brave enough.
"Hey, hey!"
"Shopkeeper Wang!"
"Who's that guy?"
"Did he kill someone?"
Keeping his voice low, he turned to a richly dressed shopkeeper beside him and asked with an ingratiating smile, as if afraid of disturbing the swordsman.
"How should I know?"
"I just heard about it and came over myself."
"But..."
"Looks like a swordsman!"
The shopkeeper of the silk store narrowed his eyes, absently twirling his goatee. Then he instinctively edged away from the old man, as though afraid the grime on him might soil his own neat new clothes.
"Huh?"
"What's he doing?"
"Blocking the Mount Hua Sect's gate—could he be planning to..."
Just then, a hotheaded young woodcutter from the street corner pushed into the crowd and called