Outside the county town, a rugged mountain path wound upwards, covered with a thin layer of white snow.
A seemingly weary nag exhaled clouds of white breath, pulling an old cart along the silent mountain road at a slow pace.
The wheels pressed against the accumulated snow, producing a dull creak.
Bare branches along the way stretched in a vigorous manner, occasionally trembling gently with the cold wind and shedding their snow.
"Brother Qingzi, how did you discover them just now?"
After some self-consolation, Shen Xiaohu had already moved past the initial guilt of killing, and his heart felt much more at ease.
Shen Qing glanced at Shen Xiaohu and, speaking truthfully, said, "I wasn't entirely sure myself, so I shot an arrow in advance to test it."
"Huh? What if you killed the wrong person?"
"If I'm wrong, I'm wrong," Shen Qing said softly with no psychological burden, "Sometimes, if you're not ruthless enough, you can't survive in this world. Don't overthink it."