The caravan finally departed from Jia City and started their way towards the mountain range. There were no disruptions and as the constant breeze flew by, carrying the fragrance of grass and flowers and spring, I found myself slowly drifting into sleep. Next to me, the tiger-girl was already out cold, and even Wu Lin fought desperately to stay awake. While this pandemic of sleepiness was ongoing in our wagon, I noticed some cultivators in the caravan already sat crossed-legged and started cultivating, while the other half enjoyed the sweet scent of spring and contemplated.
The Green River that followed us all this time split up into different streams. Some were thunderous and violent, only to be met with a blockage, and subsequently crashed into it countless times until everything near it was decimated. Some calm and slow, meandering left and right until it met the ocean. While others were led into a lake, ending their journey prematurely.
