"We're not on the same side."
"Your words are truly brilliant, Noble Sir."
"Haha, I'm curious. You're a Qian man, so why are you heading north at this time?"
"Alas, I am a Qian man, after all."
"Then what wisdom can you impart, Old Sir?"
"The great path leads to heaven; each takes their own route. The path of a noble one like yourself is naturally smooth. You already have your plans, Noble Sir; one who does not rely on divination still has a path beneath their feet."
"I have been enlightened."
"It's all just empty talk, nothing to be taken seriously."
"My caravan is about to leave. I bid you goodbye."
"Farewell, Noble One."
Zheng Fan stood up. This time, he really left. He caught up with the carriage team ahead and mounted his own horse.
A Ming turned his head, holding a waterskin. There was a hint of red at the corner of his mouth, as if he had applied rouge.
He asked, "Anything wrong?"
