The years pass quietly, time flies, and in the blink of an eye, twenty years have passed.
"Sir, Little Yellow Mountain is just ahead!"
On the flat and open official road, shaded by green trees, the carriage moved slowly.
The driver was a middle-aged man, with a weathered face and a burly build, his hands rough and calloused, steadily driving the carriage with hardly any jolts along the way.
Inside the carriage, a faint scent of sandalwood lingered, and two people sat facing each other, both exuding a sense of calm.
Both of them were dressed as scholars, though one was a young man while the other was middle-aged.
Although the younger one seemed less mature, in terms of demeanor and presence, he was superior. With a flick of his folding fan, he lifted the curtain, revealing mighty mountains cleaved to carve out a wide road, with carriages and horses bustling back and forth.
"Cutting through mountains and creating a wide road, what a remarkable feat!"
