The curtain of the most exquisitely decorated carriage at the rear was lifted slightly, and that proud, aloof maid poked her head out for a look, her elegant brows involuntarily knitting together.

Just as the convoy was about to leave this small border town, Adam Spencer stood up on the carriage and cupped his hands in salute to those around him.

The young man carried three old swords on his back, standing in the rain with fists and palms joined in greeting, unexpectedly exuding a sense of heroic grandeur.

“Gentlemen, ladies, and aunties, I won’t say much in the way of thanks.”

After saying this, he spread his arms wide in the rain, clenched his fists and raised them apart, revealing his not-so-impressive chest and arms, striking a particularly foolish pose, and shouted loudly, “Off to Chang’an—if I can’t make something of myself, I won’t come back!”

As soon as these words fell, it was like the storyteller’s wooden clapper signaling the start of a performance, or a bloodied head thudding to the ground; the people by the roadside all cheered in unison.

In the only decent tavern in Weicheng, David Carter and several trusted officers were drinking. The noble didn’t want them to see him off, and they couldn’t be bothered to send off that kid Adam Spencer either, but they clearly saw the scene before them. One officer, recalling what Adam Spencer had said standing on the carriage, couldn’t help but sigh, “If he won’t come back unless he makes something of himself, then that kid who’s never acted like a person probably really won’t be coming back.”

At the table, David Carter thought of the three brief sentences Adam Spencer had said to him late last night, and couldn’t help but stroke his graying beard, feeling deeply comforted in his old age. Watching the carriage gradually leave through the city gate, he smiled and said softly, “Not coming back is fine too. You little rascal, go and stir up trouble in the outside world.”

The farther from Weicheng, the farther from the grasslands as well. The spring drought troubling the barbarian tribes and the new chanyu hadn’t affected this place. The spring breeze had turned the branches and leaves green, then stained the wheels and horses’ hooves, often attracting a few butterflies to chase after them.

The fine horses galloped between meadows and hills, the soft reins sometimes taut as iron, sometimes drooping like leaves. The luxurious carriage, layered with quilts and blankets, gently rose and fell with the motion. The delicate-featured maid stared blankly out the window at the swiftly receding scenery, perhaps thinking of the northern lands where yellow sand danced in the wind. Her expression was somewhat stiff, yet her eyes were filled with eager anticipation for the unknown future.

Inside the carriage, a little boy dressed in fine, light furs clung to her leg, looking up longingly, mumbling a few words in the Central Plains dialect, as if wanting to go out and play.

The maid turned and sternly scolded the boy, then her expression softened as she pulled him into her arms, affectionately ruffling his hair.

The wind lifted a corner of the carriage curtain, and the spring breeze brushed her cheeks, no longer as tender as in years past. The maid squinted slightly, looking toward the front of the convoy, her face not looking particularly pleasant.

At the very front, on the shaft of a relatively plain carriage, sat the young soldier named Adam Spencer. Judging by the way he kept nodding off, he seemed about to fall asleep. As a guide, he was supposed to lead the entire convoy, but he spent most of his time dozing off—by any measure, hardly competent.

But this wasn’t what made the maid’s expression so cold; it was a detail she noticed in the scene before her.

Adam Spencer was dozing on the carriage shaft, looking as if he might fall off the speeding carriage at any moment. So the little maid Lily Spencer kept a vigilant watch by his side, using her small, frail body to support him as best she could. Her dark little face revealed no clear expression, but it was obvious she was already exhausted.

Just then, the convoy rolled over a very shallow grassy stream, jolting Adam Spencer awake. He rubbed his eyes and glanced at the sky, realizing he had slept until dusk, so he raised his hand to signal the convoy to stop and make camp.

Sleeping until it was time to camp might seem irresponsible and careless, but no one in the convoy objected to his arrangements.

They had left Weicheng several days ago, and every decision the young man made along the way had proven correct in hindsight. Whether it was route selection, campsite location, security, water and food, or ease of escape, there was nothing to criticize. Even more impressive, the convoy was making good speed.

The dozen or so barbarian horse bandits the noble had subdued on the grasslands had initially looked down on the Weicheng border troops, but now they could only admire the young soldier’s skills as a guide.

By the stream, people silently dug earth, built stoves, gathered firewood, and boiled water. The maid stepped down from the heavily guarded, luxurious carriage and looked at Adam Spencer lying comfortably on the grass not far away, rubbing his belly and getting ready for hotpot, and at the thin, dark little maid struggling to fetch water, set up the pot, and gather firewood. Her brows furrowed even more deeply.

A burly guard nearby stood up and glanced at her. She shook her head, signaling that he needn’t follow, and walked along the stream through the cooking smoke.

She admitted that this youth named Adam Spencer was indeed quite capable, far better than those so-called talented young nobles in the capital Chang’an. If he were truly a young noble from Chang’an, perhaps his behavior would even earn her some admiration. But in the end, he was just a coarse youth from the bottom rungs of society, yet he so ruthlessly exploited the little girl who should have shared his hardships. Unconsciously, this touched a nerve in her heart, making her extremely displeased.

Approaching the little maid Lily Spencer, the maid gave her a gentle smile, signaling for her to put down the heavy firewood and come have a chat.