The wind in Yongjing City was colder than in the Qingling Mountains.
Not the kind of cold that cut flesh like knives, but a clammy chill that wormed its way into the cracks of one's bones.
Zhou Qi pulled his newly changed gray cloth robe tighter around himself as he stood by the street, feeling the chill shoot upward from the soles of his feet. Even his Foundation Establishment Realm body could not keep it out.
The cloth shop's clerk had been a chatterbox. While wrapping his clothes, he had prattled on for quite a while. "First time in the capital, sir? This wind is wicked. Outsiders can't bear it when they first arrive, but they'll get used to it after a few days."
Zhou Qi did not respond. He paid and left.
It was already afternoon. He had spent a full two or three hours lining up to enter the city that morning, until his legs had gone numb from standing.
There were more than half as many pedestrians on the street as there had been in the morning. Hawkers carrying shoulder poles began packing up their stalls, while shop clerks leaned against doorframes and yawned.
He glanced down at the tattered robe in his hand, walked to the mouth of an alley, and casually tossed it onto a rubbish heap.
He did not throw away the travel permit. He folded it neatly and tucked it into the innermost pocket against his chest.
Zhang Cheng, from Liu Family Village, had entered the city looking for work. For the next few days, that would be his name.
After turning through three alleys, he found an inn on a secluded back street.
The words on its signboard had faded beyond recognition, and more than half the paint on its threshold had