In the West Wing, Chen Ji stood under the eaves clutching Wu Yun, quietly listening to the distant chanting, letting the scent of burnt paper money waft over the roof.
The warhorses in the stable glanced at Chen Ji and then lowered their heads to chew on the hay. Only a black warhorse refused to eat, staring intently at Chen Ji, snorting loudly.
This warhorse was tall, comparable to Zaozao, and one might wonder if it was the Dragon Seed Axia mentioned.
At this moment, an elderly strong servant came with a quilt, stuffing it into Chen Ji's arms: "You wash your clothes and quilts with water from the well; you get two sets of clothes each season. If they are worn out or torn, you mend them yourself. If you need the maid's help, it costs five cents for each piece."
Chen Ji took the quilt into his arms.
