The evening wind blew in through the gaps in the carriage, carrying the scent of increasingly lush grass and trees.
All the unresolved matters had been settled, and the team members had finally shed the tension they had carried for days. The carriage was quiet.
Kazmir leaned in a corner, resting with his eyes closed.
The walking mushrooms packed in the net bag swayed gently with the jolting of the wheels.
Most had drawn in their caps, looking resigned to their fate. Only a pale pink Pooji that liked to chirp "ji ji" was still restlessly poking at the knots in the net with its tentacles.
Zoya lowered her head, using the daylight filtering in to read the copy of Silver Strings Under the Moon in her hands.
He Xi leaned back as well, pressing his back against the wooden boards.
He took out that copy of The Picky Gourmet.
He wondered what unfamiliar delicacies it might record.
The title made He Xi instinctively assume it was probably a travelogue about journeying across the continent, most likely recording all kinds of foods encountered along the way. Perhaps it might even describe ways to cook Demonic Beasts.
He could pick up a trick or two.
In a relaxed mood, he opened the book.
There was no table of contents, nor was there any introduction to spices or heat control.
On the first page was only a solitary opening title.
He Xi's gaze fell on the first line, and his casual expression paused slightly.
The creaking of wheels grinding over gravel seemed to gradually fade from his ears.
I am a failure.
At least, for a long stretch of my life, that was what I believed.
I naively thought that with the blade in my hand, I could earn an important place