Qianqian's deerskin boots clattered hollowly on the wooden walkway of the dock at Joan of Arc Castle.
She wore an exquisite flower-embroidered long dress, her head covered with a gauze hat, concealing her face, while her right arm was entwined with Mitney's, appearing like a couple.
Mitney had two thick black crescent moustaches on his lips, making him look like a stout middle-aged man.
In the cold river paths, white vapor puffed from under his black beard, as he rubbed his hands and looked around, carefully observing the small town that not long ago had experienced a fierce battle.
The ground once stained red with blood had long been washed clean by rains, leaving only half a broken bridge drooping on the riverbank.
As for the lightning-charred marks on the riverbanks and walls, they could not be removed for the time being.
"Be careful, handle with care!"
Turning to the side, Mitney shouted to the men handling the cargo, skillfully playing the role of a merchant.
