The night was dark and the wind was high, as the never-ceasing gales of the Desolate Domain blew the thick scent of blood from the Cloud Boat, where figures in black robes busied themselves tirelessly, washing away the bloodstains on the deck and inside the cabins.
One after another, lifeless bodies with unseeing eyes were tossed from the boat onto the rocky shore. Soon, the corpses would be devoured by scavengers drawn by the smell.
At the bow of the Cloud Boat, Zhao Sheng, He Ying, Mo Wushuang, Bao Yu'er, and the effeminate man gathered together, all of them wearing smiles on their faces.
The recent ambush had been a resounding triumph, even though they had not rehearsed it beforehand.