It was a gloomy day with a light drizzle. The weather had turned chilly, and frost was starting to form on the ground.
After a journey of nearly ten days, with a slight hiccup along the way, Qin Huai reached the outskirts of a small town, just twenty miles from the outer city.
In a dilapidated shack on the main road, he was enjoying a hot bowl of beef soup, dipping his pancakes into it. As he ate, he pondered about his return to Qingzhou City. He needed to uncover who the next leader of Wuji Mountain was and how he could relay this information to Xiang Mingfeng.
"Sir, you ordered three portions of pancakes," said the waiter, placing a tower of pancakes on Qin Huai's table. Besides Qin Huai, only one other table at the soup stall was occupied, a duo seated there.
