The commotion came and went quickly. Only a few cries rang out from the City Governor's residence before the guards on the perimeter came rushing over with torches, lighting the grounds once more.
The residents waiting in the street had no idea what had happened inside. They were still gossiping about the Dragon King's romantic escapades. A few had vaguely heard the words "the Meng clan," but didn't think much of it. In the eyes of Jade City's powerful, the Meng clan had become a long-forgotten story, buried beneath the dust.
The courtyard looked as though nothing had happened. Not a single spectator was missing, and not one extra had appeared; everyone stood where they had been. Those who had cried out were now red-faced, lowering their heads as they backed away.
The Dragon King stood in the east, perfectly composed, his hands not even near his saber.
The whole thing had been like a clumsy prank.
"Who was that? Who was shouting just now? Who put out the lights?" Pang Jing demanded angrily.
Someone had clearly shouted about avenging the Meng clan. Everyone had heard it, yet each person thought the voice had come from a different direction. They looked at one another, but no one spoke.
As for the dozen or so giant candles around the grounds, someone had tampered with them beforehand. Only short stubs of wick remained, measured with considerable precision. They had all gone out at the same time, and the fact that they had lasted until the second watch was a bit too much of a coincidence.
Whatever the purpose of the commotion, it had ruined the atmosphere of the match. As usual, the "host," Mo Chu, paid no attention; if anything, he seemed to be sleeping more soundly. Pang Jing hesitated for a