"Sigh... it seems there's a traitor in the family. What a pity I can't go back to investigate." The woman's voice sighed faintly from inside the carriage again. That one short sentence confirmed a few things.
Hearing this, the leader's expression turned cold. With a swing of his blade, its powerful force shattered the carriage roof.
Zhang Deming could finally see inside the carriage. A mother and daughter were huddled together.
Given the tendency for people to marry young in this era, Zhang Deming would have mistaken them for sisters if he hadn't heard their conversation.
The mother was no older than twenty-five, the daughter around ten.
'As for their looks,' Zhang Deming thought, 'they're just alright. On par with an A-list celebrity from my past life, at best.'
'Compared to the senior sisters back at the Sect, whose beauty is sculpted by all sorts of Immortal cosmetic products, these two would just be considered Ordinary.'
