The three people boarded the snow carriage pulled by twenty icefield wolves. Chang Jing stood at the front, Marquis Xuanping sat in the middle, and Ye Qing sat at the rear.

Chang Jing tightened the reins. “Hold on. We’re moving.”

Ye Qing answered calmly, “Okay.”

The next second, a gust of freezing wind blasted into him, contorting his face into the perfect image of a sorrowful meme frog!