A year passes.
An older man enjoys his alcohol at a teahouse midday. The town is quite lively, despite being rather small and remote. The old rags that he wears are nondescript and he bears no weapons on his body, at least not visibly. Patches of beard grow unevenly on his face and his drooping eye makes it seem like he's constantly on the verge of falling asleep.
A large bamboo hat obscures his features but they aren't too pleasant to look at in the first place. While there might have been a time when Dong Hengmu was considered a handsome young man, with prospects of a bright future, those days have since passed.
Now, he is little more than a worthless bum.
He has no particular plans for the day, not really, aside from—
Dong Hengmu clicks his tongue and curses beneath his breath. He rises quickly to make his escape, his pursuer seems to have followed him from the last town over much faster than he expected.
