The next morning.
Prosper River Port.
Dozens of cargo carriages stopped in front of a large ship, with knife-wielding guards coming and going, loading the goods onto the ship.
Others kept watch from a hundred meters away to prevent anyone from getting close.
This was the convoy of Duke Fu's Mansion.
Decades of accumulation couldn't be trifle, even if the Royal Mansion guards were acquired martial artists. It would take at least an hour for them to transport everything onto the ship.
Yu Xian stood on the deck with a Seven-Star Sword on his waist, his hand on the railing, blowing the breeze from the river. Beside him was Doctor Huang, who was about to bid him farewell.
"Doctor Huang, the fall of the city is imminent. Staying here would mean facing almost certain death. It's better to come with us to the north, and there's no shortage of food in the royal mansion."
Doctor Huang stroked his goatee and said:
