Dark clouds pressed down on the city, a violent wind arrived swiftly, and a heavy rain threatened to fall but did not, casting the sky in a somber shade of grayish yellow.
The carriage passed through the streets, amid the bustling conversation, numerous sounds reached Song Cheng's ears.
"Kill the savages," "Victory is certain," "Form Realm Expert personally teaching," these phrases penetrated his ears from all directions.
Bodies outlined in stark white lines, varying in height, weight, and shape, sprinting and rushing about in the world of ink, shouting and hurrying from one place to another.
"Steward, go through the Central City District, and make a detour around the Prefectural Yamen," the young man suddenly commanded.
The steward respectfully answered, "Yes, young master."
Inside the carriage, all hell broke loose.
"What's this? Young master? What young master?" Old Master An exploded like a dog whose tail had been stepped on.
