The shadowy wind was formless, arriving silently.
Lin Yan suddenly opened his eyes and raised his blade to strike down.
The shadowy wind dissipated and vanished.
He stood upright, blade in hand, holding a small crossbow, and quickly followed the path from which the shadowy wind had come.
He went straight out the main gate of Linjiang Station and turned left onto the street.
At the end of the street, there hung a lantern.
In High Willow City, every household had a Night Lamp made from willow branches.
Even if a family couldn't afford the expensive lamp oil from the temple, at least the lantern itself definitely came from the Liu Zun Temple.
But this lantern was completely white, its flame dim, as if it was flickering on the verge of extinction.
With the night wind's caress, influenced by the dim light, colorless "vines" formed one after another, reaching towards Lin Yan.
Ordinary people couldn't see them.
