"Senior brother, the boat is ready!"
"Chase!"
On the north bank, more than a dozen large ships and small boats had stopped. Lu Gui, Wen Tai, and several external disciples jointly launched three small boats, leaving one person to deal with the corpses of the Songshan disciples, while the rest embarked on the boats to pursue.
At night, the water was unclear, the wind blew incessantly, and the waves leapt up, smacking loudly against the boats.
Ahead, a fishing fire grew brighter and brighter.
Moonlight sifted through the thin clouds, casting a clear layer, and Zhao Rong, standing at the bow, gradually made out the contours of the boats ahead as the hurried sounds of oars reached his ears with the wind.
"Lai!"
"In earlier years, I heard you enjoyed listening to Xiang Kun; when did you start liking Central Plains opera?" Zhao Rong laughed, "All of us brothers love music; why not stop and chat for a while."
