Early February, the fifth year of Jianxing.
Yang Zhengshan and Yu Qingyi traveled light and simple, arriving once more at Da Rong's capital.
This was the first time they had returned to the capital since leaving Da Rong. Standing outside the city, looking at those tall, majestic walls, Yang Zhengshan could not help feeling somewhat wistful.
The city was still that same city, and the walls were still those same walls, but the feeling they gave them was completely different now.
The city gates were still very lively, but the liveliness now was not the same as before.
The former liveliness had come from prosperity, while the liveliness now came from decline and desolation.
In the past, those entering and exiting through the city gates had been splendid carriages, merchant caravans stretching like long dragons, and ordinary commoners too, though they had not made up a large proportion.
But now, almost all those entering and exiting through the city gates were ordinary commoners, each of them low-spirited and wearing faces full of worry.
Outside the city walls, there were also large numbers of refugees gathered there, their faces sallow, bodies thin, skin and bones.
Da Rong's prosperity was gone, leaving only desolation and decay.
After arriving outside the Capital City, Yang Zhengshan and Yu Qingyi did not enter the city at the first time. After all, it would not do for their identities to be exposed, so it was better to be sneaky.
Thus, that night, the two of them silently sneaked into the city. They did not go anywhere else, either, and hid for the night in the Jing'an Marquis Mansion.
The Jing'an Marquis Mansion was naturally still there, but in that vast estate, only a few old servants remained to watch over it. It had been a long