The End of Year Festival came to a close amid the festive atmosphere that filled the city.
The stars and moon had hidden away, the lights were dim, and traces of the previous night lingered on the streets. The weary tourists had already gone home, leaving the streets empty and even more desolate.
The sound of horse hooves clacking on the bluestone pavement echoed lightly.
Wang Anfeng, leading the Green-Maned Horse, walked slowly down the street.
Last night, he had escorted the tired Zhang Tingyun back to the inn and found himself a small bed at a post house where he meditated all night. Today, he did not specifically say goodbye, leading his steed out of the bounds of Yulin City. The young man looked ahead at the bleak Heaven and Earth and sighed softly, his breath forming a white mist in the cold winter air.
Departures always stirred discomfort, even more so after indulging in utmost joy and excitement.
