Along the ten-mile stretch of official road, Li Huanzhen left Chen Mu in the dust. Chen Mu never even caught sight of his shadow.
By the time he reached the City Gate Tower using Eight-Step Chasing Cicada, the Daoist had somehow procured another gourd of wine and was leaning against the foot of the wall, smiling as he waited.
"Brother Chen, you can't blame this humble Daoist. You were the slow one."
"You'll have to pay for this round of wine."
Li Huanzhen shook his Wine Gourd, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.
"Your lightness skill is excellent, Brother Li. I'm impressed."
Chen Mu truly felt a little envious.
Someone from an orthodox mystical lineage really did have a different foundation.
He had no idea what grade that lightness skill was, but it had left him so far behind.
Still, this was hardly the time to investigate, so he simply invited the Daoist into the city.
Once they entered, Chen Mu's gaze darkened slightly.
The atmosphere in the city was decidedly wrong.
There were far fewer pedestrians on the streets, and most of the shops were closed.
Squads of newly recruited soldiers were patrolling the streets, the clatter of their armor rising one after another.
The taverns and teahouses along the streets, however, were packed.
Most of their patrons carried sabers or swords. They appeared to be wandering martial artists from elsewhere, drinking and clinking cups.
"Brother Chen, this humble Daoist won't trouble you with a visit."
Li Huanzhen suddenly stopped and tipped his chin toward a tavern ahead.
"I just spotted a few old acquaintances. I'll go drink with them."
"Come find me when you have time. I'll keep that round you owe me on your tab for now."
Chen Mu followed his gaze. Sure enough, several martial artists dressed