"Ding dang dang."
The cart was pulled by an old horse, with a worn iron bottle tied around its neck containing a stone, emitting a crisp sound with each step, dinging ceaselessly.
The elderly vendor of Peach Blossom Brew sat slouched at the front, occasionally waving a long whip, yet never truly landing it on the horse's back.
The rear compartment, usually used for transporting goods, now seated the famed Former Chief Military Commander, anticipated by tens of thousands.
The curtain lifted, revealing a side profile.
Arms cradling the back of the head, eyes squinting, gazing into the increasingly gloomy sky.
With a demeanor of indifference, and an expression of nonchalance.
He seemed like a wealthy young master traveling with an old servant.
If not for his unremarkable attire, the elderly driver might have believed he encountered a renowned scion wandering the world, perhaps sharing a drink upon arrival?
