In April of 1459, looking down on the muddy roads of the Roaring Corridor, one could see flocks of wagons and horses heading south.
The pale sunlight shone on the body, but it lacked the warmth of spring, instead bringing an indescribable sultry heat.
Green grass like jade, purple flowers like emeralds, and streams pushing the residual snow on the banks, turning into foam ahead.
Following behind the long lines of the gray-clad Shooting Army, the wagons were not loaded with goods but rather with women and children.
These women, like herding sheep, used long sticks to manage the crying children.
Most of these women carried a baby on their back, and according to the policy of the Shooting Army, mothers of infants could come along, but they had to take care of the other children.
Riding on horseback, Alexei looked at the women and children swaying on the wagons, feeling an inexplicable bitterness.
