"Young Lord, they are already resting," Mo Yang said in a deep voice.
"Hmm," Mu Qingge nodded almost imperceptibly, "For the remaining time, let them play slowly in the forest. We’ll go ahead and meet the Young Master of the Wanxiang Building."
As the words fell, a cold gleam flashed through Mu Qingge’s clear and profound eyes.
The group rose and followed in silence.
More than twenty people walked through the forest skillfully, heading towards the forest exit.
Outside the forest was the outskirts of Yu Zhi Town. As Mu Qingge led her people there, a carriage on the official road was also heading to Yu Zhi Town.
In the dim night, a black shine streaked across the sky.
’Coo coo——!’
The cry of a hawk sounded above the carriage.
From inside the moving carriage, a well-defined, perfectly proportioned hand suddenly extended out from the curtain. The skin was smooth and delicate, flawlessly fair.
The hand dropped casually. A black light swooped down, targeting that perfect hand.
In the blink of an eye, a completely black hawk landed on the index finger of that hand, its sharp talons tightly gripping it, affectionately pecking the palm with its sharp beak a few times.
The large hand brought the hawk inside the carriage.
Soon after, the curtain was lifted again, the hawk spread its wings, flew into the night sky, and vanished into the darkness.
The carriage continued to move forward, neither hurriedly nor slowly.


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