South Sea, Long Nan, Long Xi, Jiang Huai… Feng Zhiwei swept through the four provinces, a black robed figure on a galloping horse whipping up clouds of dust as she passed countless workers and travelers.
Six days later, in Jiang Huai Province on the outskirts of Dijing.
Nighttime.
A horse charged down the official road like a flash of lightning, green trees blurring by. The rider was covered in dirt and dust, her greying lips cracked and dry. She wobbled as she rode, reins looped around and digging into swollen wrists. The pain was barely noticeable in her exhaustion.
She was close to the province border and almost to Dijing.
The rider let out a long breath, some of her crushing exhaustion fading. She could not slow, urging her horse to maintain its suicidal dash through the darkness.
Figures suddenly appeared, lining up and blocking her way.
