The next day, at nine in the morning.
Fang Han slowly sheathed his saber and stood upright. Even after a night of arduous training, his breathing remained steady and deep.
Just as he was preparing to regulate his breath for a moment, a burst of clamorous gongs and drums suddenly sounded outside the courtyard.
"Clang clang clang~ boom boom boom~"
The gongs and drums drew nearer and nearer.
Accompanied by the crackling of firecrackers and the clamor of the crowd, it was exceptionally lively.
Fang Han frowned slightly. The perception of Perfected Transformed Force instantly spread out, and every movement within several hundred meters entered his ears with perfect clarity.
"This is the house!"
"Oh my, this is a joyous occasion that brings glory to the ancestors!"
"Quick, lead the way! Don't keep the officials waiting!"
Listening to the commotion outside, Fang Han was puzzled.
His Martial Training Courtyard stood in a secluded spot, with only a few neighbors nearby. Most lived in separate homes, and the area was usually extremely quiet.
Such a grand procession today—could some family be holding a wedding?
Before long, the clamor had reached the entrance to the small courtyard.
"Is True Disciple Fang at home? The prefectural office has come bearing good news~" A loud announcement rang out.
Fang Han froze for a moment, then gave a silent laugh. Setting down his saber, he strode toward the courtyard gate.
With a creak, the heavy wooden gate was pulled open.
What met his eyes was a highly striking sight.
On the street outside the courtyard,
more than a dozen yamen runners in black uniforms held wooden placards reading "Silence" and "Make Way," while several others carried red-lacquered wooden trays draped in red cloth.
At the front of the crowd stood a clerk in a green