Yong Feng shrugged at the woman's quick departure. There was nothing else for him to do and he sure as hell wasn't going to see where she was going. It did feel a bit suspicious to him, but if she had anything to do with the murders, then he would eventually be led back to her under more violent and severe circumstances. He exited the town hall, adjusting his hat as he did so and walked straight to the saloon. Not for a drink, to be honest he disliked the taste of most alcoholic drinks served out in the various saloons he frequented. He drank socially, but if he had a choice, he'd much rather just have a cup of Chinese tea. It cleared his head and made him feel refreshed. Of course, there was the superstition that it cleansed your soul and all that stuff his family liked to tell him, but Yong Feng didn't believe that. He doubted there was anything in the world that could really cleanse his soul.
His horse had been left at the hitching post. A steed of brown, it had been with him ever since he left California. Or at least somewhere close to it, Yong Feng didn't really care. He just didn't want to go back there ever again. The people looked at people like him as cheap labour. Why dig tunnels and lay tracks on your own if you could hire a few dozen Chinamen for a cheaper price? It was quite possibly the only thing that truly disgusted him. Remember, He said to himself. That was why he had to cover himself up. That was why he had to hide his identity. His kind wasn't welcome in the west. True, he had some good comrades, but those were exceptions. Rare exceptions.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he mounted his steed. The west didn't welcome him, and he doubted that would change anytime soon. However, he was pretty sure once he started firing his rifle in defense of the town, that would change quite fast. At least in this small region, and at least for a short period of time. Who knew when the next piece of sensationalist news about the Yellow Peril from the East would arrive?