Ridges and peaks rose up and down. The wind atop the mountain was cold and desolate. The mountain temple was so dilapidated that it could not keep off the howling wind and the fire burning inside was swaying and flickering, making the shadows appear like devils brandishing their claws.
Lu Zhongqi was munching on a freshly steamed bun, his eyes on the dancing fire as he lost himself in his thoughts. They had changed their route and detoured around the border village to avoid the martial masters trying to intercept them. They were almost in the capital city.
That knowledge did not bring him any relief. The closer they were to the capital city, the more anxious he felt. It was as if the peace over the past half month was the calm before the storm.
He had a hunch that the treacherous men at the court would definitely not give up considering they had even sent Du Wuchang. Even more powerful masters would be coming. This worried him very much.
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