In the stables at the entrance of the post station, there were many horses and two horse carts. However, Hui Wenzu's Pi Beast was nowhere to be seen.
Perhaps thinking his injured left leg wouldn't be suitable for riding, and the fact he had to bring another person along, Mr. Chen opted for one of the horse carts.
Mr. Chen drove the cart, while Zheng Fan leaned casually against his side.
As the cart galloped, the cold wind of the winter night seemed to continuously slap against their faces.
To prevent Zheng Fan from bleeding to death, Mr. Chen had managed to stem the flow of his Qi and blood. However, this caused an incredibly uncomfortable sensation.
Even breathing felt strenuous. Each breath felt like a battle, his lungs seeming to WHIR like bellows, and each heartbeat felt like a heavy hammer being mercilessly slammed against his ears.
