The March spring breeze melted the snow, and the water level of the Nao'an River broke free from the ice and withered grass just like the green willows on both banks.
The flute-shaped boat was navigating the river channel of the Nao'an River, the hull undulating with the waves, and the chamber pot inside the cabin began to sway in the verdant waves, exuding a myriad of colors.
"Ugh——"
Thierry gagged but forcefully swallowed the vomit back down his throat.
Grabbing the wine pouch for a swig of beer, he looked up at the dim, light-leaking cabin, feeling indignant inside.
In the entire cabin, pairs of dull eyes blinked with only the weak sounds of dice rolling and card games.
This cabin was packed with various supplies and personnel, all sticky with the smell of feet and feces.
To these noble youths from Falan, it was nothing short of the Fire Prison.
