Ximen Yong and his party, on Black Tiger Ridge, bandaged the guards' wounds and began to prepare for their departure.
Two horses had already died. Although the carriage had overturned, it was made of seasoned solid wood, as hard as stone, and wasn't significantly damaged.
A few guards who were less injured lifted the carriage and hitched the horses.
They then piled the corpses of their fallen comrades onto one of the carriages.
Realizing it was already the latter half of the night, the moon rose over the ridge, casting a ghastly white light on the bloodstained ground, creating an inexplicable eerie and tragic atmosphere...
The pungent smell of blood persisted in the night breeze, weighing down everyone's hearts as if filled with lead...
The wounded sat in the other carriage. Yuan Shouzhi rode the horse and drove the carriage, with Ximen Yong sitting beside him at the front.
