Feeling the carriage stop again, Yang Qing frowned once more. "Looks like someone really doesn't want us to leave."
No sooner had Yang Qing spoken than another unfamiliar voice came from outside the carriage.
"You've done this to my people, and you still think you can leave?"
Apparently, the owner of this saltworks had arrived.
Jiang Zhizhou sat firmly on the carriage's crossbeam. "What if we did? What if we didn't?"
"You've certainly got some nerve. Then stay here. You won't be leaving."
As soon as the man finished speaking, people surrounded Yang Qing's carriage, blocking its way.
This time, the people stopping them weren't those seemingly useless salt workers, but a group of smartly dressed, no-nonsense enforcers.
Each wore a longsword engraved with the same pattern, which was presumably the crest of some local lineage.
At the command, they all drew their longswords and advanced step by step toward Shen Qingmo's carriage.
Watching the enforcers crowd around them as thickly as a swarm of locusts, Jiang Zhizhou curled his lips into a cold smile.
"So you came prepared. Tell us, what do you want?"
He certainly didn't believe that the man before him had gone to such lengths merely to avenge his dozens of impoverished salt workers.
Those people were nothing more than a laughable excuse.
"Nothing much. I just want to make friends with you."
The man looked at Jiang Zhizhou with a broad smile. "Especially the person in the carriage behind you."
This man had actually come for Yang Qing?
That revelation surprised both Jiang Zhizhou and the people inside the carriage.
"We're merely strangers whose paths happened to cross. There's no need to get acquainted." Jiang Zhizhou refused with a smile.
They didn't even know what this man's intentions were, and he wanted to make friends?