Tian He waited respectfully before the door, bent at the waist as though he had never once stood straight.
Sunlight poured over him, washing away the trace of ruthlessness from having just killed someone, revealing his dull, honest face.
Ever since Tian Anping had fallen into devilry, Tian Xili, the Marquis of Gaochang, had lost all heart and spirit. He shut himself away in the clan grounds, amusing himself with wine and women all day.
Tian Chang, who had been highly valued under Tian Anping, controlled Horned Island overseas alone, rose into the upper ranks of the Tian Clan, and held a post in the Rain Cutter Army, where he built up no small number of connections.
After Tian Anping fell into devilry, he too withdrew from the Rain Cutter Army on behalf of the Tian Family, with no further possibility of laying hands on the Nine Legions. But with money and men beneath him, he easily seized the clan's power while Tian Xili wallowed in a daze.
As Tian Chang's trusted confidant, Tian He had also leapt to a position much like the clan's chief steward.
Now Tian Chang was dead as well, Tian Anping was dead beyond doubt, and he was the most powerful man in the Tian Family.
A slave begetting slaves, until he begot the Tian Family's de facto patriarch... was that not also a night roc swallowing a dragon, defying heaven and changing fate?
Yet the grand ambition in his breast only stirred him for a few breaths.
He was accustomed to humility. It was not merely a mask... it was his life.
When that paper-folded Green Sheep ignited, he waited with utmost respect, like a servant awaiting his master's command.
The folded paper Green Sheep turned to flying ash. Its flame slowly deepened from