The two of them complained more and more, filled with grievances.
Time flew, and before long it was the early morning.
Ma Zhengming kept yawning and leaned against a big tree, dozing off.
Qiao Quanlin lay straight on the ground, his thigh propped on his other leg.
If it weren't for the constant harassment of mosquitoes, they would have long since fallen into a deep sleep.
Suddenly, flickering lights appeared in the distance, getting brighter and closer.
Clop, clop, clop!
The sound of horses' hooves in disarray reached them.
Ma Zhengming suddenly woke up, quickly calling out to Qiao Quanlin.
The two crouched and peered ahead.
A convoy was approaching hurriedly yet unevenly, with some on foot and some on horseback, and in the middle, there were four horse-drawn carriages.
They moved forward with lanterns lit.
On a closer look, all four carriages were prison carts.
Inside the four prison carts, there were eight to ten prisoners each.
