On the official road outside Liangzhou City, yellow dust filled the sky.
A party of more than ten riders sent clouds of dust rolling behind them.
Jiang Yuechu rode the Crimson-Eyed Stallion at their head.
Liu Chen and several of her old comrades followed behind.
But the mood was rather subdued.
The men who usually shouted and swaggered sat ramrod straight in their saddles, their eyes darting toward the rider in front.
Especially Zhao Hu.
The burly man with the fierce face hunched his shoulders, wishing he could bury his head in his horse's mane. He dreaded the thought of that formidable woman looking back at him.
Two months.
Just two months!
She had already become a sixth-rank General of the Guard, a formidable expert in the Core Formation Realm.
And the rest of them?
After all these years, they were still scraping by at the very bottom of the Demon Suppression Guard.
How could the gap between people be wider than the gap between a man and a dog?
Zhao Hu swallowed, bitterness and lingering fear churning together inside him.
Thank goodness.
Thank goodness he had backed down.
If he had lost his head back then and tried to regain face, or secretly put obstacles in her way...
Zhao Hu shuddered and touched his neck.
By now, the grass on his grave would probably be three feet high.
Seeming to sense the unease behind her, Jiang Yuechu drew lightly on the reins and slowed until she rode alongside the others.
"We were all on the same team once. There's no need to be so stiff."
Cold by nature though she was, she was not someone who put on airs.
As long as no one provoked her, she was easy enough to talk to.
At her words, the tension in