On the way back to Underground Street, Xu Qing had barely taken a few steps when crows began circling and following him. After walking past a street or two, three or five yellow weasels were bouncing and trailing behind him.
This was only in the city; if he were in the mountain forests outside the city, hundreds of beasts would surely follow, yet without causing alarm or disturbance.
By the time Xu Qing returned to the familiar Underground Street, the small animals following him were already no fewer than seven or eight kinds.
The crows acted as guides suppressing the hall, the yellow weasels were naturally the scouts of the Transmission Hall, and a few slick gray rats emerged from the crevices of the surrounding shop doors and the grass tufts. Atop the eaves and tiles of the row of continuous buildings, a Willow Immortal was silently slithering, flicking its red tongue.