The rain stopped as Zhao Changhe left the inn. Zhao Changhe’s mood improved slightly. Seeing that his beloved horse was not stolen and was comfortably eating hay, his mood improved even more.0

After thinking about it in more detail, of course no one would dare to steal his horse. You guys can see how scary that saber on my back is, can’t you?0

Zhao Changhe paid the stable hand a piece of silver, but as he was about to mount his horse, he suddenly thought of something and put his foot down. He leaned down and meticulously checked the stirrups and saddle for anything strange.0

His days in the Cui estate had been comfortable—a bit too comfortable, it seemed. He had almost forgotten his previous caution.0

Seeing that there was nothing wrong, Zhao Changhe heaved a sigh of release and finally mounted his horse.0

The middle-aged man from the Demon Suppression Bureau watched him from the entrance of the inn. Seeing Zhao Changhe’s actions, his expression was full of admiration as he passed him a piece of paper. “These are Han Wubing’s details.”0

Zhao Changhe bluntly accepted it. “Thanks.”0

The middle-aged man said, “My name is Wu Weiyang. Perhaps...0