Escape for the Artist’s Life

As soon as one of the drivers yelled that, Yujia felt the carriage suddenly lurch forward as the horses pulling it were forced from their slow pace to break out into a sprint. She flinched, turning to look at Yufeng. 

Yufeng was stiffly sitting, eyes alert. She shifted herself closer to the window on Yujia's side, pushing the fabric flap aside to look out for her own. At the sight of the bandits approaching, she cursed under her breath.

Heart rate speeding up, Yujia's fingers dug into her palm. "How are there bandits?" she exclaimed.

Yufeng didn't reply. Her hand slipped into a pocket fold in her robes, pulling out a dagger about the length of Yujia's forearm. At the sight of the knife, Yujia's eyes widened. Yufeng kept something like that on her all this time? Did she have this knife the entire time, from the moment Yujia met her? If not, then where did it come from?