Those with newer clothes were mostly brawny Wandering Martial Artists.
They wore bamboo hats and carried weapons at their waists. Their expressions, as they glanced around, were grim and cruel, completely blank, or fixed in humorless smiles.
The looks varied, but all of them exuded a savage aura.
Yet Liu Lang blended in among them without looking out of place in the slightest.
On the contrary, he seemed to be in his element, squatting on the wall of a dilapidated posthouse with a smile, sizing up the passersby.
Whenever he made eye contact with someone who caught his fancy, he would grin and call out a greeting.
Of course, it wasn't idle pleasantries like, "Have you eaten?" but rather phrases from the Jianghu's secret vernacular.
For instance, upon seeing beggars, he would ask, "Struck any gold today?" which meant, "Did you get anything valuable or have a full meal?"
