Chapter 54: Journey 1
The morning sun rose slowly from beyond the distant mountains, casting golden rays across the forest canopy. Shafts of sunlight broke through the leaves like divine fingers touching the earth, illuminating the dew-kissed ground and painting the winding dirt road in shades of gold and green.
A flock of birds burst into the sky in a flurry of wings, startled by the thunderous cadence of hooves pounding against the earthen road.
Dada-dada-dada...
The sound echoed through the ancient forest like rolling war drums. From the dense treetops to the moss-covered underbrush, tranquility shattered as a lone carriage hurtled down the narrow woodland path, flanked by towering pines and tangled vines. Drawn by two spirit horses, their silvery manes streaming behind them like banners in the wind, the vehicle surged forward at a breakneck pace, leaving a whirlwind of dust and scattered leaves in its wake.
Startled woodland creatures—deer, foxes, squirrels, and even a few lesser spirit beasts—scattered in every direction, vanishing into the shadows of the forest to escape the rumbling advance.
At the front of the carriage, a young girl sat upright, hands steady on the reins. Her figure was slender but graceful, wrapped in a simple yet fitted robe. A wide-brimmed hat shielded her face from the glare of the rising sun, though a few rebellious strands of her tied-back hair had escaped the knot and now fluttered freely in the rushing wind.
Her eyes—partially hidden beneath the hat—remained calm, sharp, and focused. There was no fear in her bearing, no panic in her grip. Though the horses galloped at full speed, she sat like a veteran driver—unshaken, composed, and clearly accustomed to traversing dangerous roads.
Inside the carriage, nestled on a cushioned seat like a lazy prince of a noble family, Meng Hao lounged with his head resting on both hands. The luxurious interior rocked lightly with the motion of the road, but his eyes remained half-lidded, lost in thought.
Inside the softly swaying carriage, Meng Hao lounged against the silk-padded cushions, arms folded behind his head. The golden morning light filtered through the half-drawn curtains, casting dappled patterns on the interior woodwork. He let out a long, exasperated sigh.
"Sigh... It’s really no easy task to sneak out of a major sect unnoticed," he muttered to himself, lips curling into a wry, self-deprecating smile.
The carriage rocked slightly as it rounded a bend, the wheels creaking faintly beneath the weight, and the seat beneath him shifted ever so slightly. He adjusted his position with practiced laziness, one knee propped up, the other leg stretched out, a picture of refined indifference.
"Avoiding the patrol team was the worst part," he continued his quiet monologue, voice low and thoughtful. "Those bastards have been crawling all over every exit path like ants around spilled honey... for weeks now."