In the blink of an eye, the figure of the black-clothed man disappeared from the woods.
The sound of the flute vanished, and the leaf whip seemed lifeless as it exploded with a bang, scattering broken leaves all over the ground.
"Milord, the assassin has retreated."
Fearful but relieved, the attendant guarding the carriage barely managed to keep their footing, as they had come to the front of the first carriage and bowed as they reported the situation.
The curtain of the carriage was lifted from the inside, revealing a lavishly dressed noble son.
As if sensing something, he looked up towards the direction the flute sounded from earlier, his gaze fixed on the treetop.
Lin Qingluo was dressed in a light blue outfit, her gentle smile accompanied by a bamboo flute as she stood gracefully on top of a tree branch, looking like a young celestial maiden descending from the heavens.
Seeing that it was just a young girl, he was slightly surprised.