Magic City, Lu Clan Building.
In the private reception room on the top floor, a room never opened to outsiders, the crystal chandelier still hung from the three-story-high dome, its warm yellow light falling across the dark brown solid-wood table.
Yet there was not a trace of warmth among the people seated on either side of it.
Lu Xing sat at the head of the table. His salt-and-pepper hair was still combed with meticulous precision, but what lay hidden deep in his eyes was now utterly different.
Silence.
From the moment the news came back, no laughter had sounded in this room again.
Zhou Shan sat on the right. The face that usually wore fawning, ingratiating expressions was now nothing but ashen pallor.
His fingers kept rubbing against the rim of his wineglass, producing a faint, grating squeak.
Across from him, the new head of the Luo Clan sat upright, his face equally livid.
Xu Linghai, head of the Xu Clan, sat farther away. His eyes were half-closed, and his breathing was heavier than usual.
Since entering this room, he had barely spoken.
Because he had seen Jiang Che's terror with his own eyes...
Lu Xing raised his gaze and swept it across everyone's faces.
Then he spoke.
"You've all received the news, haven't you?"
His voice was not loud, yet it was like a stone smashing into stagnant water.
"Jiang Che didn't die at the Parthenon. Not only did he survive, he forced the Parthenon Temple into submission and placed Ye Xinxia in the position of Divine Maiden."
He paused, the corner of his mouth pulling into an expression that was impossible to tell whether it was bitterness or mockery.
"He killed Khail, killed Durank, killed Izisha. The Parthenon Sacred Mountain... ran with blood."
The faces around the table