The first snowfall of winter wasn't too heavy, cloaking the entire forest in a silver-white that looked exceptionally beautiful under the sunlight. Fang Zheng leaned against the carriage door, yawning as he gazed at the scenery outside, accompanied by the incessant rocking of the carriage.
Although Clark prepared the best carriage in Sweetwater Town for Fang Zheng, it was still a small place after all, and this carriage was said to be handed down generation after generation by the town mayor. Not to mention anything else, at least a sense of history surged forth. And the current carriage, swaying left and right, could indeed be seen as... well, it was quite an achievement not to have fallen apart.
