WHOOSH—
A biting wind swept past, and Su Ziheng pulled his clothes tighter around him. He squinted, his eyes dry from the cold, as he stared at the solitary, handsome figure in white that had finally come into view.
Pei Yuhang stood motionless in the wind, his robes fluttering like snow. The sword at his waist cast a cold, faint glint in the morning light.
"Let's go, Young Master Pei. We're off to the Capital City."
Su Ziheng, the very man who had once drawn his blade on Pei Yuhang, now smiled respectfully, crinkling the corners of his eyes.
He waved a hand behind him, and a soldier immediately led forth a magnificent, snow-white steed. The horse raised its head and neighed, its breath forming a puff of mist in the frigid air.
Pei Yuhang tilted his head slightly at the words. His jet-black eyes swept over the fully-armored soldiers before he let out a soft sigh.
"Can your men keep her under control?"
