Inca Empire Trilogy (golden City of Cusco)
About This Novel
Wailas Mountains, April 5, 1533. Jia Boye held the reins in one hand and carefully placed his boots on the fragile gems with the other hand. He walked at the front of the team, following closely behind the two tent porters. The mountain road was just wide and narrow enough for his reddish-brown horse to follow leisurely. At dawn, they walked straight up a cliff. The morning fog was so thick that the sky was not visible above and the river was not visible below. I could only hear the sound of rolling water coming from the foot of the mountain in the distance. However, suddenly, as if a huge mouth took a strong breath, the morning mist suddenly rose from the foot of the steep mountain, spread in all directions, and became denser and denser, until it hit the sharp corners of the rocks and split. This morning mist is like a gentle and sweet breath, gently blowing across Jia Boye's face.
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