Duan Rong's stance training was like a tireless machine; once he began, he kept going without stop, all the way until the Zi Hour at midnight.
But tonight, he had only been standing for about an hour when someone suddenly called out to him.
"Duan Rong, disperse your qi!"
The voice sounded quite familiar to Duan Rong, yet for the moment, he could not recall who it belonged to.
Duan Rong frowned slightly, tilted his head back, and exhaled, emptying all the white vapor from his mouth before looking over.
Not far away, a lantern hanging beneath the eaves cast dim yellow light over the area. Within the shifting light and shadow, Duan Rong recognized that face.
"Escort Zhao Mu!"
A hint of delight appeared on Duan Rong's face. Zhao Mu had taught him for three months, after all, and he had always treated him well.
The reason Duan Rong had not recognized Zhao Mu's voice at once was because Zhao Mu had deliberately lowered his voice just now, utterly unlike his usual easygoing, laughing manner.
"This is Duan Rong?"
From behind Zhao Mu came a deep voice.
Only then did Duan Rong notice that among the sparse tree shadows behind Zhao Mu, another person was standing there.
The man had thick brows, a fine nose, a hard line to his jaw, and tightly pressed lips. He looked no more than seventeen or eighteen, at most a year or two older than Duan Rong.
"Yes, Young Master Luan. He is Duan Rong," Zhao Mu answered respectfully.
Zhao Mu's respectful attitude toward the man surprised Duan Rong slightly.
The man stepped forward, glanced at Duan Rong, and said coldly, "Duan Rong! Come with me to the Inner Courtyard!"
"The Inner Courtyard? Now? For what?"
At this hour, they wanted him in