Fang Yuan was pinned by that sharp gaze, and a faint chill ran through his heart, yet his expression remained calm.
He cupped his hands slightly, his voice neither servile nor overbearing as it carried clearly to the men blocking his path:
"My name is Fang Yuan. I wish to join your trading firm and have come today to pay my respects. I ask that you make this convenient for me."
The several guards, their auras fierce and hardened, swept their lightning-like gazes over him from head to toe.
Though his clothes were ragged, patch upon patch, his posture was upright and his eyes tranquil. Faced with the faint pressure emanating from these men,
he showed none of the fear or panic expected of an ordinary villager. Instead, he carried an indescribable air of calm composure.
His stance and gaze in particular were sharp yet restrained, something no ordinary farming household could possess. He looked as though... he had trained.
The men exchanged glances. The wariness on the face of the man who had spoken first eased somewhat, and his tone softened as well,
though it still carried the impersonal scrutiny of official business. "Wait here."
He tilted his head and signaled to his companions, then turned and strode quickly toward the tent.
The wait was not long, but amid such a killing atmosphere, every breath felt especially distinct.
Soon, the man returned. Lifting the tent flap, he said to Fang Yuan:
"Come with me. Miss wants to see you."
Miss?
Fang Yuan froze at the words, startled inwardly.
The trusted steward of Third Master, the one Hu Lao San had spoken of, was actually a woman?
That was beyond his expectations. He revealed none of it on his face and merely nodded.
"Thank you for the trouble."
Following the