```
Qijiao Well, night.
In the remote towns along the border, there's generally not much of a night scene to behold. But now, the sky was dark as ink, stretching far and wide, the desolate wilderness spread around, only to encircle the sole place aglow with bright lights, emanating a raw and rugged tension.
The place was windy, houses were also very uniquely built; the front was straight, the back slanted, that bizarre curvature resembling a sliced baguette.
The Wu and Jiang families are both powerful clans from the western border, with ongoing feuds. Their sudden alliance today meant the issue was certainly not simple. They did not send out invitations, just placed two at the door, gauging one's level of cultivation at a glance.
Long Qiu, with Golden Silkworm in tow, passed a narrow alley and then saw that conspicuous building beside the main road—the only hotel in town with over five floors.