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Lunar December 29, nearing the end of the year.
Every household was busy sweeping away bad luck and pasting New Year blessings, their feet barely touching the ground.
Except outside the Underground Street, a group of funeral shopkeepers and their assistants stood around like loafers 'streetwalking'.
This year there is no 30th day; the eve falls on the 29th evening. At this time, restaurants and teahouses closed their doors, those taking a break have taken a break, and even if one or two occasionally open, they are already full of customers.
Xu Qing and the others had nowhere to go, and since he was also worried about the Underground Street soon to be covered by a lightning disaster, he stayed with his group on a neighboring street, chatting idly.
The rebels of the Red-Clothed Cult were huddled together with Xie Hongying, chattering about something.