If we had tipped off the Marquis of Jing'an, where would we have had a chance to make our move?

The Jizhou Luo Family.

In the splendorous hall, a group of clan elders from the Jizhou Luo Clan had gathered together.

Luo Changsheng stared blankly at a sheet of paper on the table in front of him. This sheet was precisely the piece of calligraphy Yang Zhengshan had asked Luo Shang to give him.

The moment he had taken the calligraphy from Luo Shang's hand, he had felt as though his soul were trembling. After that, dazed and drifting, he had carried the sheet of paper all the way from Chongshan Pass back to Jizhou City.

After several days on the road, food had no taste, he could not sleep at night, and his entire person was muddled and confused, not knowing what was what.

Now his face was withered, his eyes like dry wells, looking as if he had lost his soul and spirit.

"Changsheng, Changsheng~~"

An aged voice sounded. Beside him, Luo Jiangqiu, a clan elder of the Jizhou Luo Clan, called out in a low voice.

Seeing Luo Changsheng remain sunk in a stupor, Luo Jiangqiu frowned, then reached out and gave him a pat.

"Ah!" Luo Changsheng shuddered violently.

"Third Uncle!"

Displeasure showed on Luo Jiangqiu's face as he said, "Changsheng, now that you are the clan head, you should act like one."

Luo Changsheng's eyes were lifeless, as if he had not heard his words at all. Instead, he murmured, "Third Uncle, what are we to do?"

Compared with the arrogance he had shown earlier in Luo Shang's home, now he was more like a frightened young beast, as if he had been fixed in the gaze of some ferocious giant beast and might be swallowed into its belly at any moment.

It was no wonder he was so terrified. Yang Zhengshan's piece of calligraphy