Xu Wuyi didn't refuse the kind offer.
The threat from the Feathered People hadn't been eliminated, and the Blood Sacrifice Order was still active. His whereabouts had to be kept secret, making basic protective measures essential.
The group went downstairs and got into a black sedan arranged by the military.
The car drove out of the inner city, cut through the morning rush hour traffic, and headed for the airport in Xingjing's northern suburbs.
It was quiet inside the car.
Xu Wuyi leaned back against his seat, watching the streetscape flash by outside the window.
He'd been to the city many times—for award ceremonies, meetings, to heal from injuries, and to cultivate—but he'd never felt a sense of belonging.
Perhaps it was because the city was too prosperous, too busy. Everyone rushed about like cogs in a precision machine, moving along a predetermined track.
But Red River was different.
