The autumn wind blew gently, and a merchant ship with a swollen sail was sailing down the Clear River.
A few hoarse coughs came from a cabin on the second floor of the ship. "Cough cough cough…"
The deck was full of travelers, but there were not many guests on the second floor. A young man in blue with a three-foot saber in a brocade scabbard hanging from his waist pushed open a door with a tray in his hand.
Squeak!
Sitting beside the tea table by the window of the room was a tall old man. He was wearing a brocade robe, a jade belt, and a loose cloak. His eyes were reserved, like a lonely eagle that had experienced countless things in the world.
"Master, the medicine is getting cold. Take a sip. Even if it can't cure your illness, it can help with the pain." The blue-robed young master put down the tray, picked up the medicine bowl on it, and placed it beside the old man's hand. There was deep worry between his brows.
