By the afternoon of the fifteenth day since they had left White Peacock Town, the caravan finally reached a massive crossroads.
The land here flattened out, the road widening and splitting into two major arteries. One led northeast, toward the White Cloud City, marked clearly by stone pillars engraved with cloud patterns and trade sigils. The other stretched southward and slightly west, cutting through hills and forests toward the territory controlled by the Slaughtered Moon Divine Blood Sect.
The caravan slowed and eventually came to a halt.
This was where they would part.
Han Yu stood near the front of the caravan, his gaze resting on the road that led back to the sect. He could feel a familiar pull in his chest, a mixture of anticipation and unease. He had been away for far too long. Far longer than he had planned.
Qing Luan dismounted from her carriage and walked up beside him, her cloak fluttering lightly in the afternoon breeze.
"So this is it," she said quietly.
