After returning to Qingjiang Town, Chen Miao did not linger. He walked straight through to the eastern end of town.
Along the way, Chen Miao passed the shop that had burned down on the night of his last day off.
There were no ruined walls or charred remains. A new merchant was enthusiastically selling goods there, as though nothing had happened that night. If not for the smoke-blackened corners of the neighboring walls, Chen Miao would have thought he had remembered the wrong place.
That feeling once again reminded Chen Miao that this was the Mortal World, not reality.
Not only did no one care when ordinary people died, even the death of an apprentice from Yizhuang had failed to cause the slightest ripple. So if I died out there, would it be the same?
Chen Miao thought this as he sensed the three sources of malice behind him.
Leaving town, Chen Miao followed the main road.
There were plenty of fellow travelers, most of them on foot like Chen Miao. What surprised Chen Sen was that their pace was only slightly slower than Chen Miao's [Status: a little faster]. Apart from those walking, some drove donkey carts or carried shoulder poles.
Those carrying shoulder poles mostly traveled in groups of two or three, presumably planning to take turns along the way.
As for the donkey carts, each carried roughly three or four shoulder poles' worth of goods and only needed one driver.
However, most of those carts were loaded with goods. Chen Miao saw none carrying passengers.
After a moment's thought, Chen Miao seemed to understand.
Everyone was probably full of energy first thing in the morning. Rather than spend money on a ride, they could save a little by walking.
When they returned in the afternoon, the carts