Halfway up the mountain.
A loud rooster's crow echoed from the distance, heralding the sunrise as the sky slowly brightened.
The slanted morning sun pierced through the shadows of the trees, casting mottled patches of light.
He listened to the whispers around him.
Unlike Xie Luohe, Zheng Xiu couldn't make out exactly what they were saying.
But ever since Zheng Xiu learned he was to impersonate "Xiao Buping," he knew what he was in for.
The man's reputation was just too great.
In an era of limited information, impersonating someone wasn't particularly difficult.
With no photographs or videos, stories of "Xiao Buping's" deeds spread throughout the Jianghu largely by word of mouth.
