The rugged mountain road winding upwards outside the county town was covered with a thin layer of white snow.
A seemingly weary nag, exhaling puffs of white breath, pulled an old cart, slowly advancing along the silent mountain road.
The cartwheels rolled over the snow, emitting a dull creaking noise.
Along the way, bare branches stretched with a tenacious posture. An occasional cold wind passed by, causing the branches to tremble slightly and the snow on the twigs to fall rustlingly.
"Brother Qingzi, how did you notice them just now?"
After a moment of self-comfort, Shen Xiaohu had emerged from the initial guilt of killing someone, feeling much more at ease in his heart.
Shen Qing glanced at Shen Xiaohu and said truthfully, "I wasn't very sure either, so I shot an arrow in advance to test it."
"Ah? What if you had killed the wrong person?"
