After another three days of travel, Lin Chen could clearly sense that he was drawing ever closer to the great city called Flowing Cloud.
The most obvious change was the official road. What had once been a path merely packed with yellow earth had now become a roadway paved with enormous bluestone slabs. Its surface was several times broader and smoother, wide enough for four or five large carriages to travel abreast. Neatly planted roadside trees lined both sides. Though it was already late autumn and most of their leaves had withered yellow, one could still see the grandeur of the original planning.
The travelers on the road also grew increasingly numerous. Merchant caravans of every size passed by in an unbroken stream, their banners fluttering and their escorts plentiful, with no shortage of powerful cultivators stationed among them. There were also more lone cultivators, all kinds of them. Some rode swords low through the air, some traveled on various flying artifacts, while others, like Lin Chen, appeared to be walking yet moved far faster than ordinary people.
The concentration of spiritual energy in the air had also risen by a whole level. Though it still fell short of a blessed grotto-heaven, it was already far richer than the areas surrounding Cold Water City. As a result, on some of the hills beside the official road, one could vaguely see rather refined courtyards or small outposts, seemingly temporary footholds for minor families or cultivators.
From time to time, he could also see squads of cultivators in standardized uniforms patrolling the official road. On the cuffs or chests of their garments, most bore an embroidered, simple flowing-cloud design, or the family crests of clans he did not recognize. Their auras were steady and their gazes sharp. They maintained order along the