The air in Canglang City felt as though it had been mixed with grit, making every breath a raw, burning agony in the throat.
The streets were narrow and winding, flanked by low, dilapidated adobe houses whose pitch-black windows resembled countless spying eyes. Sewage pooled in potholes into small, black-green ponds, exuding a pungent odor of rot, cheap liquor, and horse manure.
Numb pedestrians, wrapped in tattered leather coats, hugged the base of the walls as they hurried past, casting wary yet indifferent glances at the newly arrived troop.
Chapter 94