At night, Zhao Changhe changed back into Wang Daozhong’s attire, applied the disguise, and returned to Yang Qianyuan’s inn.0

Hmm, Snow-Treading Crow seems to have been well taken care of. Nobody dared to try anything. Not bad, not bad.0

The inn was still lit, and Yang Qianyuan was pacing around anxiously. Surprisingly, his appearance had changed back into the young master on the wanted posters. He was clean-shaven and neatly groomed, no longer the rugged man from their first meeting.0

Seeing “Wang Daozhong” return, Yang Qianyuan rushed up to him like he had seen a relative. He hurriedly greeted him, “Senior, where have you been…”0

Zhao Changhe glanced at him curiously and then said with an indifferent expression, “Why, do you think you have the right to know where I go?”0

“No, no, not at all,” Yang Qianyuan replied with an apologetic smile. “There was an incident at the brothel you were at. The madam was assassinated! Since you just so happened to leave at the same time, they suspected that you were an accomplice...0