A long black curtain draped the front of the brownish-yellow carriage. It shielded the insides of the carriage from the prying eyes outside. Images of deities drifted freely with grace on the curtain, suggesting an air of ethereality and remoteness.
The jet-black automaton drawing the carriage screeched and squealed incessantly as it galloped up the slopes of the mountains with ease. It was as if it was treading on level ground.
With their most strenuous effort, the martial artists kept their pace with the speed of the carriage relentlessly moving forward. Despite their struggles, they were unable to steal any glimpses of Meng Qi nor Jiang Zhiwei in the cabin.
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