A few moments later, Han Xuelian arrived at the stables to find Chi Cheng was already saddled on An-Xing.
He scowled, noticing his pretty little ruby donned the same defensive and distant expression he often wore in the earlier stages of their time spent together.
Chi Cheng's usually radiant emerald green eyes were dulled by the burdens wallowing in its depths, face pale with exhaustion and perhaps a look of…indifference.
Was he upset because the Grandmaster was forceful earlier?
Before Han Xuelian could say anything, Chi Cheng snapped An Xing's reins and took off towards the Estate's gate.
A cloud of snow dust was left in the black Yili horse's wake, not even batting an eye at his master's arrival.
On the other hand the disciples accompanying them still prepared their saddles for departure.
Han Xuelian released a displeased grunt, pinching the bridge of his nose as he approached his cousin Han Qirong who just mounted his saddle.
