"That's right, wouldn't it have been better to just agree from the start."
Chen Ye stood up and said, "From now on, stay by Xie Xuan'an's side and keep a close eye on his every move. I'll come to see you regularly, so don't entertain any crooked thoughts."
Feng Zhao felt a jolt in his heart. At that moment he understood that the person before him had not come for him at all, but had set his sights on Xie Xuan'an, and perhaps even the entire Xie Family.
He wanted to ask about Chen Ye's identity, but he saw the figure flash, turning into a series of afterimages that vanished beyond the field of vision in an instant.
Feng Zhao hastily chased to the doorway, but the sprawling courtyard was already completely empty.
"A qinggong master?"
Feng Zhao swallowed a mouthful of saliva, sitting back down in his chair in a daze.
His entire body was stiff and unable to move.
After quite a while he slowly recovered his wits, only to find his mouth parched and a stubborn feeling of blockage in his throat.
He instinctively tugged at the collar of his chest, wanting to find a cup of cold tea to drink.
Yet despite fumbling about the table in a flurry for a long time, he found nothing at all.
Feng Zhao groped for the flint on the table, blew on it several times, and lit the candle.
The dim, yellowish candlelight flickered upward in the room, driving away the gloom.
Taking advantage of this faint light, Feng Zhao finally found the teapot. He didn't care whether the tea had gone completely cold, grabbing the teapot and pouring several fierce gulps straight into his mouth.
The cold water entered his belly.
A biting chill crawled all the way