"Chang Xun, is it you causing trouble?" Yun Ziliang felt the evil wind was off and asked Li Changxun.
Li Changxun was savoring the warmth of rice wine and was a bit stunned by Yun Ziliang's abrupt question.
"What?"
"Why is there a sinister wind in this shop? Are you controlling the wind?"
"Grand Master, you're just talking nonsense. The door isn't tightly closed, letting the wind in, and you want me to take the blame." Li Changxun mumbled, and added, "Besides, it might be Hua Zi's dead people coming back to life, bringing the evil wind from East Market Street and then blowing it into the shop."
The night was already unusual. Yun Ziliang pondered Li Changxun's words and felt there was no problem, so he simply stopped talking and continued drinking.
The pendulum was still swinging. After 20 minutes and several cups of rice wine, Zhao Wuya, who was sitting facing the shop door, noticed a virtual shadow at the doorway.
"Huh?"
