Before he knew it, the sky had quietly darkened. Night descended like a heavy sheet of black silk, gently yet decisively enveloping the entire market.
The spirit lamps in the market lit up one after another, their warm yellow light intertwining to illuminate the streets.
Although it was late, the streets were still crowded.
Compared with the shoulder-to-shoulder bustle and boiling clamor of daytime, the market now held a little less noise and a touch more mystery and tranquility.
Jing Wen returned to the inn without wasting a moment.
With practiced hands, he took the materials for his disguise from his storage bag and began carefully altering his appearance before a bronze mirror.
Before long, an entirely new face appeared in the mirror: rough skin weathered by years on the road, sparse and untidy eyebrows, and slightly sunken eyes carrying a hint of cunning.
He changed into plain, dark clothing, instantly transforming his bearing. If he slipped into a crowd, he would vanish into the sea of people without drawing notice.
Once his disguise was complete, Jing Wen examined himself from both sides in the bronze mirror. After confirming that nothing was amiss, he strode out of the inn with a clear destination-the Seven-Craft Pavilion.
Upon entering the Seven-Craft Pavilion, Jing Wen did not seek out Steward Sun from before. Instead, he obtained the Flame Talisman Treasure from another steward.
After leaving the Seven-Craft Pavilion, Jing Wen did not pause for a moment.
Under cover of the deepening night, he hurried out of the market.
Soon, his figure disappeared beyond the market's edge and merged into the boundless darkness, leaving the market behind him still brilliantly lit and bustling.
Standing on his flying sword, Jing Wen sped across the sky.
His robes flapped around him, and the wind whistled past