Ye Qingxuan opened his eyes and saw the faint light of dawn.
It seemed that he had been dreaming for a long time. That d*mn Hermes had appeared in the dream, as well as the first pope. But for some reason, although he also appeared in the dream, he did not seem like himself.
He still remembered a few episodes from the beginning, but when he got up the broken and chaotic fragments quickly melted in his memory.
"D*mn it..." Ye Qingxuan rubbed his forehead. He was still a little sleepy. Although he had slept the whole night he still felt like he had stayed up late.
The sound of the carriage rocking continued, and a loud clamor from outside.
He opened the curtain and saw refugees in ragged clothes on both sides of the road. Most of the hundreds of refugees had no shoes, and they walked barefooted through the mud that was frozen with morning dew, their meager body temperature turning it into soft soil as they trampled over it.