The bazaar of Canglang City was always a noisy, bustling place, a chaotic mix of sweat, the musky odor of livestock, the scorched aroma of roasted naan, cheap spices, and the scent of every conceivable kind of goods.
Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the crude canvas awnings, casting blinding pillars of light amid the swirling dust. People dressed in all manner of attire rubbed shoulders, their shouts, haggling, and the chiming of camel bells blending together into a surging torrent of primal vitality.
Qin Lie had changed into an unassuming grey linen tunic, with a deliberate smattering of dust on his face. He reined in the sharp, commanding aura of someone long accustomed to high positions, blending in like a common frontier soldier as he wove through the narrow stalls with the crowd.
Chapter 107