As the carriage slowly entered the Seventy-Two Districts, its cyan sandalwood shafts ground against the flagstone road, producing a deep, heavy sound.
The hoofbeats of the four Snowmane Dragon Steeds pulling the carriage were like thunder. The Bronze Bells hanging from their necks swayed with each step, creating a pleasant, echoing chime.
As the bells chimed, the originally raucous Martial Arts Arena suddenly grew much quieter.
A swordsman gnawing on a bone under a tea shed suddenly choked and frantically slapped his chest. A burly, bearded man, who had been loudly bragging about his "Thirteen Linked Sabers," abruptly fell silent, his wine bowl SMACKING down on the table. Even the two martial artists clashing on the stage simultaneously pulled back, retreating to gaze with uncertain alarm toward the mouth of the street.
"Why would someone from the Taoist Sect come to the Seventy-Two Districts?"
