An utterly inconspicuous freight train pulled up at the platform and began taking on water and coal as ordinarily as could be, yet no one came to inspect the cargo containers. That was highly unusual on the border.
Even more unusual, the platform was packed with fully armed soldiers. Yet they neither lined up to welcome it nor showed any sign of boarding.
They merely watched the train depart.
In truth, behind that half-ton cargo-container door lay neither gloomy darkness nor the expected smell of rust or pig manure.
The interior was astonishingly clean, and wisps of fragrance drifted through the crack in the door connecting it to the next carriage.
The fragrance was not strong, yet even a layman could tell it was far from ordinary.
Warm light seeped out along with the scent, and passing through that door was like entering another world.
Expensive Persian carpets, exquisite crystal lamps, and train walls entirely fashioned from mahogany.
Even the servants' perfectly tailored clothes were clearly the work of renowned designers, while the seemingly understated silver ornaments and ivory buttons hinted at their exceptional status.
The guards on either side were like statues. Even seated along the walls, they gave off an indescribable sense of pressure.
At the very center of the train sat a dignified woman by the window. On the fruit platter before her were sliced pineapple, bananas, and coconut, as well as a cup of ice cream mixed with caviar.
These things might not seem like much to modern people, but in the winter of 1856, they were exceedingly extraordinary.
Take pineapple, for example. In this era, pineapples usually appeared only at the grandest banquets, and existed solely as decorations.
Bananas and coconuts were equally valuable, while caviar and ice cream actually seemed rather low-grade by comparison.