"Fuck your mother!"
The iron-covered wooden wheels rolled over the wet and soft mountain road, as the caravan of eighteen cargo carts slowly moved through the forest, heading towards Zhaoge.
On the carts were coach drivers, knife-bearing guards, spear-wielding strongmen, a caravan boss who was trembling with fear due to rumors of horse bandits, an old man with white hair, and a child hitching a ride.
Above the caravan lingered, for a long time, a variety of curses.
"Fuck your mother! Damn Wei Ben! I'm going to tear off your balls and roast them in the furnace ash!"
The white-bearded old man on the cart was so angry his whole body turned red, steam rising from his head, and the wrinkles on his face trembled.
He shouted, "You animal! How many times have I told you, those eggs aren't cooked yet, you impatient bastard! If you get a stomachache later and end up dying of diarrhea on this road, it'll serve you right!"
