It was four in the morning.
The streets were quiet.
Lin Shuyou pushed a wheelchair.
Sitting in the wheelchair was Zhao Yi.
Old lanes and alleyways, a few streetlamps, and the occasional large bulb hung at an alley mouth threw their silhouettes long and longer across the pavement.
“How’s the wound?” Lin asked.
“Fine,” Zhao Yi answered.
“All the stuff packed up?”
“All loaded onto the truck. We can head back to Nantong anytime.”
“No rush to go back to Nantong. We finally made it to Jiujiang—might as well enjoy it. Let me play the host a bit.”
Lin looked at Zhao Yi sitting in front of him.
Hearing “play the host” from Three-Eyes sounded odd; play the host… but there’s no landlord left.
“There are lots of fun and beautiful places to see in Jiujiang,” Zhao Yi said. “I already told that Li fellow—I’ll take you all around.”
“Little Yuan agreed?” Lin asked.
“Yeah. Strange?”
“I thought Little Yuan would want to head straight back to Nantong.”
“He still has business to finish. He can’t go back yet.”
“Oh, right. True.”
“And what other business?”
“There’s more…”
He chuckled softly.
“Three-Eyes, why don’t you go back to the Zhao house? I mean the outer residence.”
“No hurry. The place hasn’t been cleaned properly yet — wouldn’t be right to bring your Little Yuan there.”
They stopped.
At the mouth of the next alley a row of people stood.