Silver sword radiance coiled around Luo Qingchen. His figure shot out of the manor, his vast mind and vital blood interweaving as he raced like a swift current of lightning beyond the clouds.
The burly coachman, Zhushan, had accompanied him out of Qingzhou. Zhushan had been there when he basked in the spring breeze of success, and Zhushan had remained when he was dejected and downcast.
But this time, Zhushan might truly be gone.
Today, he had not seen Zhushan and had merely assumed Zhushan was off handling some business. When Luo Qingchen had no need of him, Zhushan was free to act as he pleased.
Luo Qingchen still remembered that Zhushan had a lover at Lin Hua Pavilion in Lin'an Prefecture, one he visited every seven days.
He had thought Zhushan might have gone to find that lover and relieve his stress.
His heart had been somewhat low of late, wholly focused on wearing away the dust upon his Dao heart. Thus, he had failed to notice this, and by the time he reacted, the cold midnight wind already carried a trace of melancholy.
At Luo Qingchen's speed, going all out, he reached the entrance of Qingbo Street in but a moment.
Sword Qi curled around him as he slowed down. He looked toward Qin Qianqiu, who stood atop a carriage at the mouth of the alley, idly playing with a wine cup, and Wang Qinhe, with the Dragon Bone Saber at his waist.
As though he understood something, Luo Qingchen's gaze trembled. Looking into the distance, he saw a burly figure leaning on a saber, standing in the cold wind and facing the direction from which he had raced down the long street. It had long since fallen silent.
"Sir, Zhushan can no longer accompany you back to