'That voice!?'
Chen Yi didn't waste a moment thinking. He immediately lifted the side curtain and looked outside.
Under the dim light of the sky, the rain fell in a solid sheet.
A carriage approached from ahead and to the side.
It was pulled by a southern pony, a docile breed with a slow gait.
The carriage itself was made of common, reddish-brown wood, completely unadorned. It bore no family crest, offering no clue to its origin.
Compared to the magnificent carriage of the Marquis's Mansion that Chen Yi was in, they were worlds apart.
As the two carriages—one small and plain, the other large and luxurious—passed each other, Chen Yi's eyes met those of a man in the other vehicle.
How to describe the man's appearance?
He had slightly curly brown hair, rugged eyebrows, a pear-shaped face, a hooked nose, and a pair of gray eyes.
Clearly a foreigner—a man from the Poshisu Country.
