Misty rain stretched over the river, and fog locked the mountains away.
The Large Ferry moored by the river resembled a lone island in the clouds. Countless Jianghu foot soldiers walked down the gangplank through the rain, gazing with wonder at the Cloud River Marshland before them and the bevy of beauties holding umbrellas, their long, pale legs exposed. They whispered among themselves:
"Are these the women of the Hehuan Sect?"
"Tender as tofu. One look and you can tell they've had plenty of nourishing. They probably are. Speaking of which, which tradition does the Hehuan Sect belong to?"
"Their Founding Patriarch dabbled in the dual-cultivation techniques of the Immortal, Buddhist, Martial, Shaman, and Demon traditions, creating a school of his own. But its ceiling is low, and nobody has established a faith and proclaimed themselves its patriarch. It counts as a Wild Chicken Sect..."
"They certainly look wild. I hear you can get a free ride just by chatting them up. They don't charge silver?"
"You think they run a charity? If they don't want money, they definitely want something else. See that martial artist with the dark circles, trembling as he walks? Three days at most, and that's what you'll look like..."
"That just shows how good their service is. Not like Lao Xiang Ji, expensive and half-hearted..."
The Jianghu foot soldiers looked around as they walked. In the midst of their conversation, they suddenly noticed another group standing on the docks.
All dozen or so wore matching leather armor and black cloaks, with ghost-face masks beneath ink-black bamboo hats. They stood motionless in the curtain of rain. The blades at their waists remained sheathed, yet they exuded a chilling menace. One glance was enough to tell they were ruthless Jianghu figures who had slaughtered countless people.