Clatter, clatter, clatter!
Urgent hoofbeats came from afar. In the blink of an eye, a rider galloped down the street, flashing past as the crowds scrambled aside!
Chickens scattered and dogs leaped out of the way.
Yet no matter how a person was dressed, they could only swallow their anger in the face of that racing horse.
"Whose cavalryman is that?"
At the roadside, a middle-aged man sat by the window of a two-story tavern in a robe of red, blue, and silver. Holding a teacup, he watched the rider race through the market and asked his question. Then he blew on his tea and took a sip.
Across from him, a man in a loose robe smiled. "You must be joking, Lord Sai. Here in this city, whose troops could they be but Dingyang Khagan's?"
The entire second floor had been cleared. Apart from the two men sitting opposite each other, there were only some twenty sturdy men, divided into two distinct camps on either side. They were plainly the guards and attendants of the two parties.
"Dingyang Khagan?" The middle-aged man smiled. "Even he belongs to the Turks. A rider appearing here could naturally be one of their soldiers."
At those words, several guards behind the loose-robed man drew the swords at their waists.
A murderous air instantly filled the room.
The middle-aged man's expression, however, did not change.
"Mr. Bei, is this how you treat a guest?"
"You misunderstand, Lord Sai. My servants merely wish to remind you that walls have ears. You should watch your words." Mr. Bei shook his head and said earnestly, "In the Dingyang Khaganate, in Dingxiang Commandery, you may curse Liu Wuzhou or kill a Han man, but you must not curse the Turks."
Lord Sai paused. As far as he knew,