At dusk, the broker appeared punctually outside his door.
"Fellow Daoist Yu, it's time to leave."
Hou Niao was using a false name, of course-yes, Yu Zhengxing. He was not deliberately making trouble for Old Yu. Martial Uncle Yu himself had said the killing should be done openly, meaning they would not conceal the Quanzhen Sect's intention to strike. Since he had given the order in the first place, as Miaogao Town's guardian, he naturally ought to be the one named.
Of course, Hou Niao had only given his surname as Yu. He had not dared mention the other two characters, or he might have frightened Gu Xiqiao into fleeing the city. Giving the full name when he finally killed the man would suffice.
Martial Uncle Yu had a spine of steel and shoulders broad enough to race horses on. He would not mind.
After all their twists and turns, Hou Niao, who was still unfamiliar with Linjing, could only roughly judge that they were heading toward the western part of the city. It was also Linjing's poorest and most chaotic district, filled with people from every creed, trade, and walk of life.
"Why come somewhere like this? Aren't you afraid of trouble?"
Having already gone to so much effort, the broker did not want his cooked duck to fly away. He hurried to reassure him.
"This is where the Daoist Palace's influence is weakest in Linjing. It's full of poor wretches and terribly chaotic. But what danger could this sort of mortal chaos pose to us? We're only avoiding the cultivation tax. There are actually some fine places in the western district, too. You'll see when we get there."
They finally arrived outside a dark residence. From the outside, it looked no different from the other houses. There were