The wheels of the carriage pressed into the soft ground, leaving tracks that were neither deep nor shallow as it drove toward the town ahead.
Bai Fu rode on horseback, her eyes dazed.
A few days ago, she was just a naive, ignorant handmaid; now, her hands were stained with blood.
The feeling of her sharp sword slicing through another's throat, of life slipping away, was so vivid it left her lost and bewildered.
At the time, her mind was too taut to process it. But afterward, the memory of the bodies littering the ground brought her frequent nightmares.
Along the way,
conversation was sparse.
Che Yunxiu hid in the carriage and refused to come out. Sometimes she would lift the curtain to look at the road, but her gaze would immediately retract the moment it met Bai Fu's.
Elder Qian, on the other hand, wore a smile and would chuckle from time to time. He was even attentive in offering Bai Fu food.
As for Xiaozhong…
