On the streets of the imperial capital, the Blue Stone Slabs had been baked scorching hot by the noonday sun, waves of heat rising from them.
Cries of hawking, haggling, and children at play intertwined, painting a bustling portrait of common life.
An old man selling sugar figurines was blowing a sugar figurine for a little girl with twin horn braids.
A woman selling rouge was bargaining with several young ladies, and everything seemed so peaceful.
"Freshly steamed meat buns—" A greasy-faced man stood before the bun shop, shouting loudly.
Beside him, his wife deftly wrapped steaming buns in oil paper and handed them to customers.
At their feet, a little girl of five or six squatted on the ground, drawing something with a twig.
Her two horn braids swayed gently with her movements.
"Qing'er, don't run too far."
The woman lowered her head to remind her, then hurried back to serving customers.
The little girl looked up with a sweet smile. "I know, Mother!"
Just then, a rapid clatter of hoofbeats suddenly came from afar.
At first it rolled like muffled thunder, but in the blink of an eye, it bore down like a raging storm.
From around the corner at the end of the street, eight snow-white Ferghana Horses raised their heads and hooves, charging out like lightning.
Their heads were held high, white vapor blasting from their nostrils as their bowl-sized iron hooves slammed heavily onto the Blue Stone Slabs, sending fragments of stone flying.
Their manes streamed fiercely in the wind, while the Gilded Bells around their necks rang out with piercing shrieks.
The lead horse's eyes were blood-red, and the white vapor it exhaled formed tiny rainbows beneath the sunlight.
"Move aside! All of you, move aside!"
On the carriage, a driver clad in palace