About half an hour later, the Yi Qi carriage arrived outside the city.
At the city gate.
Lin Ziming had no interest in marveling at the majestic forty-meter-high outer structure of Ziqiong City. After hastily paying the entrance fee of a few copper coins, he turned to signal to Wu Fan to tell the driver:
"Driver, head to the south of the city."
The driver was a small elderly man with a straw hat, his face full of weathered wrinkles.
Upon hearing this, he couldn't help but glance at Wu Fan and said in a slightly hoarse voice:
"Shopkeeper, the market set up by the Yang Family is in the north of the city."
Wu Fan waved, replying with what Lin Ziming instructed him:
"We have other business to attend to. Just head south, and make it as quick as possible."
Since the employer requested this, the driver naturally didn't say more and drove the carriage towards the south of the city.
"Given the current situation, the Yang Family has surely sealed the news, preparing for a big feast."
