The fat man didn't dare stop. He hurried onward, knowing he had passed the second trial.
But time was slipping away, second by second. Just as Tang Qisheng and the others had warned him before he came, his sense of time was gradually growing hazy. The incense burning in his hand was now his only way to measure it.
The first stick of incense was almost burned down. As they had agreed, the fat man carefully took a second stick from his pocket and lit it from the flame in his lantern. Thankfully, all went smoothly. Watching the smoke rise from the burning incense, he slowly felt his nerves ease.
The faint footsteps behind him kept reminding him that he was still a long way from safety. After all, Gao Yanqing was still following him.
His good fortune didn't last. He stopped again—and this time, he saw an old man.
The old man was very elderly, with graying hair. He struggled to push a little wooden cart, which creaked and groaned as its worn-out wheels turned.
As the fat man drew closer, a strange, enticing aroma drifted from the cart. A black iron pot sat inside, with a strong fire burning beneath it. Something was simmering away.
He knew this place was strange, but when that aroma reached him, the fat man couldn't help swallowing. He had never smelled anything so delicious.
The old man noticed him too. He wiped his hands on his apron and beckoned him over warmly. "Young man, hungry from your journey? What would you like to eat?" he asked with a genial smile, looking every bit the kindly old man.
The fat man was practically drooling, but in the end he held back and shook his head firmly. "Thank you, sir, but I still have