'Are Martial Artists going to cause trouble in the County Town?'
Cheng Zongyang walked absentmindedly down the sparsely populated street, still thinking about what the shop assistant had said.
'Trouble. Martial Artists.'
He couldn't help but associate those two words with something terrible.
If you couldn't prepare for the best, you had to plan for the worst!
It was better to assume the worst, even about something that seemed good, than to do nothing at all.
'Then again, maybe the problem is with the Celestial Fragrance Tower, and that's why Zheng Yan is preparing to leave?'
Before he knew it, Cheng Zongyang had reached an alleyway beside a wealthy residence.
Snapping out of his thoughts, he glanced around. Seeing no one, he stepped inside.
A moment later, he emerged, dragging a wooden frame. He happened to run into someone passing by.
The person only glanced at Cheng Zongyang, thinking nothing of it.
