The carriage stopped behind a roadside horse inn. This place was in the middle of nowhere, yet it was an essential stop for caravans. The horse inn was specifically established for them.
Those who roamed far and wide, who had tasted exotic delicacies, could naturally patronize this humble mountain inn.
There were guest rooms—essentially just sheds with thatched roofs—where one could wrap themselves in a mat or their clothes and make do for a night.
There was food, and even meat, which smelled wonderfully fragrant.
At this moment, the Blind Man was sitting before a large pot of "meat stew," holding two steamed buns in his hand.
Ding Heng and Cui Linfeng, using the spoons provided by the inn, were eating with gusto from the pot. Each also held a large steamed bun. For every two mouthfuls of stew, they took a large bite of bun; they ate with great relish.
This was caravan stew, but this particular caravan stew was completely different from the kind the Blind Man knew...
