The convoy continued onward.
Gradually, clouds gathered overhead, obscuring the sun. The snowy white clouds slowly turned leaden gray, as though rain was coming.
"The weather changes without warning in the plum rains."
Shen Xiang sighed helplessly and told the Deputy Qianhu beside him, "Have the men cover the gun carriages with oilcloth. Pay particular attention to the gunpowder and shells. Don't let them get wet."
"Yes."
The Deputy Qianhu was named Wu Canghai. He was also a disciple of the Shushan Sword Sect, already in his thirties, yet nominally Shen Xiang's martial nephew.
Shen Xiang was one of the Sword Sect's most outstanding disciples in two hundred years. When he entered the Sword Pool to claim a sword, the true qi he released had set hundreds of famous swords humming in unison. The Mid-Tier Fifth Grade sword, Condensed Light, had even leaped from the pool of its own accord and flown into his hand.
Such talent for the sword had prompted Fuyaozi, the Sword Sect's grandmaster, who had taken no disciples for fifty years, to personally accept him as his final disciple.
Shen Xiang came from a family of officials. Once he completed his training and left the mountain, he intended to join the Embroidered Uniform Guard and serve the imperial throne. The Sword Sect had originally been unwilling to teach him its supreme techniques, but the grandmaster had overruled all objections and personally imparted them to him.
In terms of seniority, he was the youngest martial brother of the current Sword Saint, the leader of the Shushan Sword Sect.
Unless he committed a grave offense and had his name struck from the golden register, every disciple of the Sword Sect had to treat him with due respect.
Wu Canghai left to carry out his orders.
Shen Xiang turned