Late at night.
The sky was dark and filled with heavy clouds.
Qin Yuesheng stood quietly in a shadowy corner, raising his head to observe the windows of Cyan Yang Inn that still shone with firelight.
According to Fang Haijiao, the group that entered from the north gate had all stayed in this inn, perfect for Qin Yuesheng to capture them all at once.
Putting on the gold mask and gripping the knife hilt at his waist, he instantly leapt out.
Light as a swallow, a leap of ten zhang.
As he was about to land, Qin Yuesheng grabbed the eaves of the inn with one hand, swinging forcefully, and swiftly made his way onto the second floor silently.
Just as he was about to walk towards the window, his raised foot suddenly froze mid-step, standing in the posture of a golden rooster.
Qin Yuesheng's Biluo Eye quickly expanded his view, spotting a hair-thin white line taut in the air three feet below him, which would snap instantly if he stepped on it without noticing.
