Inner City.
Jiang Ning moved like a raging wind, or like a bolt of lightning sweeping across the rooftops of the Inner City.
He had already pushed his speed to its limit.
In a flash, he crossed dozens of meters.
In one breath, he covered two hundred meters.
He watched the signal flares bursting above his head, not daring to have the slightest bit of slack in his heart.
Because as far as he knew, those large signal flares rising from the city gate, bright enough to illuminate the night sky and alarm the entire county, would only be launched under the most urgent of circumstances.
And the sound of war drums signified that something had happened at the West City Gate.
And it was something big, possibly as grave as an army attacking the city.
Because the rising of the large signal flares and the beating of war drums were of the same type as the beacon fires and smoke signals of his former life.
