It rained at Moss Ridge.
Jiang Qihu sat beneath the cover of the carriage roof, watching the rainwater form a curtain of beads, silently waiting for news from Chen Jingxuan.
Soon after, the sound of horse hooves echoed from afar.
Through the misty rain, a rider approached, followed from afar by the Black Scale Guards and spies from the Imperial City Department.
Jiang Qihu furrowed his brow.
He noticed that behind the procession, the Black Scale Guard, Sang Zheng, and those young people from the Northern County were intercepted by the spies from the Imperial City Department.
The expressions on their faces were evidently poor.
What happened here?
"Lord Chen, we will not see you off any further."
Yuan Jimo, Chief of the Imperial City Department, cleared his throat and intentionally raised his voice as he spoke.
Chen Jingxuan, alone, continued forward and came to the front of the carriage.
"Sir…"
Jiang Qihu murmured.