The forest was particularly eerie with the chill of a late spring cold snap.
Although spring had arrived, there was not a speck of new green in the forest. The bare branches twisted like ghostly claws, the ground emitted a cold breath, and as horse hooves trod upon it, beneath the dead leaves was rock-hard frozen soil. Occasionally, unthawed piles of snow lay at the roots of the trees, pitch black, like dirty ink splashed upon the earth.
The group journeyed for half a day.
Chen Yi rode not far behind Yu Wen Yuan, his expression unchanged, only occasionally lifting his gaze to observe the surrounding terrain.
Yu Wen Yuan did not bring up the matter of the proposal again. Since that conversation, he had ridden at the forefront, occasionally muttering a few words in a low voice to Wu Baha'er, likely about Han studies.
Wu Baha'er's riding skills were still poor, but better than when they left the city; at least he could barely keep up.
