Next.
The young man saw that his companions in front of the fissure seemed to be shouting and screaming, but he could not make out what they were saying.
Judging from their movements, they seemed extremely panicked.
Terrified.
Further back.
The procession began climbing the mountain.
What was bizarre was that despite the steep slope, all these people, carriages included, moved as if on level ground, without slowing down in the slightest.
As they drew closer to the fissure.
There were bonfires lit by the bandits and torches held aloft.
By the light they provided.
The young man finally managed to get a clear look at the group... They were all dressed in black cloth garments.
The garments were very thin.
Not at all suitable for this season.
Their style was strange, unlike anything living people wore. Instead, they resembled the clothes worn by Paper People used in funeral processions.
The bandits began fleeing.
They scrambled down the mountain from the cliffs and fissures nearby.
In the bitter winter cold, many bandits slipped and fell, screaming as they rolled down the mountainside.
But even so.
Nothing could make them stop running.
The procession ignored them. It continued up the slope at its own pace, moving with a mechanical, uniform speed. Then it formed into lines and entered the fissure.
The young man crouched down.
Driven by curiosity, he secretly watched the strange procession.
The bonfire at the mouth of the fissure had not gone out.
His eyesight was fairly good, too.
So he finally managed to make out that the lanterns carried by the procession were marked with one "dian" character after another, while the carriages were decorated with clusters of white flowers.
Every so often.
Someone scattered things that looked like Paper Money.
It was just like a funeral