“You took the buy-life money, and now you have seven days to collect that person’s life.”
“If you can’t collect it, you’ll lose face.”
“If it were some ordinary person it wouldn’t matter much — losing face, you just withdraw from the jianghu and come back under another name in a few years. But you can’t do that!”
“You took that buy-life money as a hired killer. If you can’t buy the life, then it’s not just your Hu family’s face on the line, it’s the Demon-Suppression Office’s face. Do you know how serious that is?”
“But now the day’s almost here, and you’re doing nothing — just sharpening your knife?”
Old Abacus really couldn’t stand it any longer.
When they’d arrived in Guazhou City, five and a half days had already passed since the day the buy-life money was handed over.
In the last day and a half there was a mountain of things to prepare, yet Hu Ma acted as if he’d been given a vacation.
He strolled the garden and honed his blade, and nothing else.
Old Abacus paced anxiously.
Even Wu Ya looked at him and couldn’t bear it, saying, “Master, what are you muttering about here? Go and tell Brother Shopkeeper!”
“I won’t!”