Before his words had even faded, all the guests were utterly shocked.
Li Xiangxiang cried out in alarm. Good heavens, that voice clearly did not belong to Wang Xian, yet it carried a somewhat familiar aura?
She abruptly turned her head and looked around, her gaze as sharp as blades as it swept across every guest's face, yet she found nothing.
Ye Hongxiu furrowed her delicate brows, her divine sense sweeping in all directions like lightning, like an invisible net shrouding the entire Yan Clan courtyard.
From the flower hall to the covered corridors, from the rockeries to the waterside pavilion, she searched inch by inch...
Yet she still could not find a trace of the intruder. The corners of her lips lifted slightly, and a glint of amusement flashed through her eyes. Interesting.
Bao Xiaoqin and Tang Feng were stunned as well.
Cold sweat seeped from the woman's palms. No matter how clever and alert she was, she could not locate the source of the voice. It drifted unpredictably, seeming both near and far.
It seemed to have come from outside the Yan Clan's gates.
Yet it also seemed to echo among the branches of an old locust tree in the garden.
Or perhaps it was hidden within the wind and snow that filled the sky, as though it emerged at once from the cracks between the bricks and tiles of every pavilion and tower.
Yan Wuhen's face darkened like still water as he shot Shangguan Ye a glance from the corner of his eye.
Without a word, Shangguan Ye strode outside and swept out a hand...
"Rumble!"
The Yan Clan's vermilion gates slammed shut, the door rings rattling loudly. The guards outside were all taken aback, unsure what had happened.
Yan Wuhen turned and gave his wife, Yu