The forty-eighth day of the great turmoil.
Pitter-patter.
The sky began to rain again, a sunshower, with the sun hanging high in the sky, even the raindrops falling on their bodies felt warm.
Rain fell on the inn that was still a day's journey from Bianliang, creating a gentle tapping sound.
On the second floor of the inn, Luo Zhen dressed in a blue gown, stood in the corridor, gazing at the distant sky where a beautiful rainbow stretched across.
"Sister Luo Zhen, I heard from the officials at the inn that the mountain road not far from here was washed out by rain the day before yesterday. Although laborers have been sent to repair it, that section of the road is still difficult to travel. We have a lot of things and quite a large group. If we take the carriage, we will need to detour."
