The White Tiger was incredibly fast, stopping only once at a relay station to rest.
In little more than a day, the view ahead suddenly opened up to a wide river that stretched across the land.
The river's waters were a turbid yellow, surging relentlessly. Even in the depths of autumn, there wasn't a hint of ice on its surface.
On the riverbank, a sprawling complex of buildings built by the water stretched for miles. It was a jumble of pavilions and towers with grey bricks and black tiles, and among them, banners could be seen faintly fluttering in the wind.
At the very front stood a tall stone archway, upon which were inscribed two large words in powerful, vigorous script: "Tiejiang Gang."
This was the headquarters of the Tiejiang Gang.
The White Tiger slowed its pace, heading toward the complex along a road paved with flagstones.
Fang Han's gaze passed through the carriage window, looking into the distance.
