The cart wheels rattled monotonously. He Ning clutched her bundle, jolted so badly that she had no desire to admire the fields and villages on either side.
There was no enclosed carriage, only the sort of horse cart commonly seen in the countryside.
The driver sat on one side and He Ning on the other, her legs dangling outside the cart.
The cart was old, and every part of it creaked as it moved.
Even a small stone sent it bouncing.
Had she not been in a hurry, He Ning would have preferred to walk there step by step. As it was, she could only grip the boards and endure the jolting journey.
At noon.
Black Snake watched the ramshackle cart stop outside a high-walled courtyard. He Ning climbed down and stood there for quite a while, recovering.
She had not worn her Daoist robes today, only plain cloth clothing in muted colors, with her hair simply pinned up with a wooden hairpin.
A village elder received He Ning.
His surname was Lin. He was in his fifties, rather thin, and wore a scholar's robe that had seen better days. Lin Family Crossing had been named after his family.
Such a serious incident had happened on his own turf that his frantic efforts had raised several blisters at the corners of his mouth. A boat had capsized and people had died. Everyone believed the dead should be laid to rest in the earth. So long as the bodies were recovered, he could give both the relatives and the authorities an accounting.
He had even sent a cart to Mount Ding last night to ask for help.
Old Man Lin only wanted to resolve the matter as soon as possible, but he also worried that those in the same trade might