Early winter, light snow; it has been thirteen years since the Human Emperor passed away.
In just this short span of time, the Central Capital has already changed Emperors again, and thoroughly washed away the former splendor that belonged to the Martial Artists.
At this moment, a train of ox carts, surrounded by cavalry, was laden with merchant goods, little bells hanging from them, chiming ding ding dang dang as they rolled along. People in the distance hurriedly moved aside, then stepped back to the roadside to point and gossip, as if idly wondering where this batch of goods had come from.
"Common trinkets and jewelry."
On the Imperial Hand Seat, Meng Xingxian only glanced once and already knew the answer; she muttered it casually.
Inside the carriage, the Firefly Demon asked curiously, "How do you know?"
She was asking on Li Yuan's behalf.
With the master present, it wouldn't do for every little matter to require him to speak.
