The Great Yang Empire, seven hundred li north of the Divine Capital, on the imperial road.
It was late spring. Willow fluff drifted through the air like snow, but could not conceal the faint trace of blood in the air. More than a dozen riders dressed in black and armed with regulation long sabers escorted a heavy iron-barred prison cart along the road in silence. At their head rode a young officer in his early twenties, with sharp brows, bright eyes, and a tall, straight bearing. He was Lu Zhaoyun, a cavalry captain in the Wind and Thunder Army.
