"Slaves?"
Hearing this, Yang Qian could not help but look at Jiang Ning.
Dressed in a black overcoat, he cut a remarkably dashing figure. He had already set down his teacup, one hand propping up his chin while the other gripped a whip. His right foot rested on the front of the cart, while his left foot dangled casually, swaying slightly as the cart moved forward.
Chapter 821