Though Lu Ban's home, Jiangcheng, was near a river, it seldom saw heavy fog; most of the time, there was only a wisp of mist hovering over the river, partially veiling it like a sheer scarf on a woman's face, shrouding the mountains and waters.
But now, he was facing a dense fog that obscured visibility.
The vast white fog spread through the air; beyond a meter outside the coach, it became excessively blurred. Looking up, the night sky was invisible, while looking down, he could barely see the gravel road—there was an unsettling feeling emanating from the churning fog.
The only comforting aspect was the faint glow of lights in the distance, their man-made brilliance piercing through the fog, indicating direction and emitting a sense of warmth.
The coachman was a man with deep brown hair and dark skin. He put down his whip and looked back.
"I need to take a leak."
Lu Ban's fellow traveler nodded, and they watched the coachman get off and walk into the dense fog.
