The refugee camp was about five miles beyond the Capital walls in a giant clearing. Even from a distance away, Wang Jingyuan could see tents set up and tendrils of smoke from cooking fires.
Some patrols stopped her from going further. Despite her assertion that she had important matters to speak to Yan Qiufeng about, they told her to wait for him to return to the Yan Manor. Maybe it was because she was a young woman and not anyone important. She was mulling over the idea of just outmaneuvering the patrols and riding past them—it's not like they could run faster than her horse—when a general on horseback leading a small group of soldiers appeared.
"Miss Wang? What are you doing out here?" Zhao Feihu rode up to her. Wang Jingyuan was relieved to finally see a familiar face.
"General Zhao. I apologize for barging in, but I have important matters. I need to see Little General Yan. Is he available?"
