On the vast and empty road, the carriage slowly traveled along.
Daoist Child Qingfeng sat at the front, skillfully maneuvering the reins in his hands as the wheels rolled over the soft ground with a faint 'creak'.
The sounds of the wheels and the cracking of the whip alternated in succession.
This calm also quietly subdued the restlessness in the heart.
"Daoist."
Inside the carriage, Fang Zhengyin spoke with concern:
"Are you confident?"
"Rest assured." Zhang Mingrui picked up the long sword beside him and said:
"This time, I've specially requested the Magic-Slaying Sword bestowed by my sect. Even if it's a fierce ghost, it can be slain, and besides, it's daytime now."
"In broad daylight, fierce ghosts dare not easily show themselves."
"Moreover..."
He paused and said:
"There's also Master Wuyuan."
Clearly.
Compared to the Magic-Slaying Sword in hand, he trusted Master Wuyuan more.
"That's good then."
