The next day, the sun hung high, the sky was dazzling.
Within Magistrate Zhang's mansion, house servants, Xu Kun's group of disciples, along with Wu County Magistrate's strong servants, over a hundred people in total, all disguised, carrying coarse rice and mixed grains, wooden buckets of hot porridge, marching grandly towards the disaster sheds on the outskirts of the city, under the banner of "Followers of Xuanyang Daoist, here to comfort disaster victims".
Xu Kun walked at the forefront of the team, dressed in a neat short outfit, the long sword at his waist wrapped in coarse cloth, yet unable to hide its fierce cold gleam.
His face was hard and cold, eyes like hawks, scanning the road ahead, carrying a fierce aura cultivated over years of battling in the martial world.
Having practiced martial arts since childhood and immersed in Swordsmanship for decades, his swift sword technique was unmatched within the state mansion.
