The Head Escort puffed out his chest with pride, rubbing his chin smugly.
"Where shall we sit?"
Ye Zilin suppressed the anger boiling inside him, looking away to avoid the disgusting sight of the man's face.
"The carriage in the middle of the caravan."
The Head Escort pointed to a carriage, feigning concern but filled with pretense: "The one with the tarpaulin on top, it will shelter you from the rain and snow. You three siblings can hide under it, so you won't be exposed to the cold and get sick."
"Thanks."
Ye Zimo revealed a wide grin, showing a row of neat teeth.
"Hurry and take a seat, the caravan is about to leave."
The Head Escort, having pocketed 250 copper coins in ill-gotten gains, was in high spirits. He hummed a little tune as he mounted his horse.
"Big brother, let's go."
Ye Zimo pretended not to care and tugged at Ye Zilin's sleeve. As the Head Escort turned around, Ye Zimo's fingertip flicked out a small pinch of colorless, odorless powder.
