Wu Dao's figure gradually receded into the distance.
At the Bridge Entrance, the people of the caravan were wretched. The women wept uncontrollably, while the others wore looks of gloomy, bewildered despair.
Behind the crowd.
Two middle-aged men, each carrying a crimson spear, stared for a long time at Wu Dao's departing back. The slightly older one, dressed in blue robes with graying temples, let out a low sigh.
"I thought he was a man of loyalty and righteousness, but it turns out he's just another predator baring its fangs."
"The world is what it is. We are willing, but powerless."
The relatively thinner, black-robed man looked utterly exhausted and said with a self-deprecating smile:
"Sometimes, I almost wish that Prince Nanyang would raise his army soon. He's not a brutal and tyrannical man; he cares for the common people, and there's no rampant lawlessness in the lands under his rule…"
"Watch your words!"
