The snowstorm raged like the wildest painter in the world, splashing silver paint recklessly, completely covering the official road. Zhao Zun and his group were trapped in the post station, unable to continue their journey back to the Capital City.
Inside the post station, the furnace roared, yet it could not dispel the severe cold outside.
Han Lei opened the window and glanced at the swirling snow outside, then turned back and exaggeratedly sighed.
"Oh! If people don't keep guests, then heaven does! Now, we don't even know how many days we'll be stuck here."
Zhao Zun's handsome sword-like brows were tightly furrowed, filled with worry.
If he couldn't return early to hand over the Commander's Seal, the court would spread all kinds of rumors, and he didn't know what trouble it would stir. His mother and sister were still in the Capital City!
