No one in the courtyard spoke.
Mo Qianhe drew his gaze away from Zhou Xiong's two hundred-odd pounds of fat and turned it on Yi Yang.
He had lived more than seventy years and seen every kind of scene. But tonight was a first.
Someone had summoned him in Zhou Xiong's name in the middle of the night. When he arrived, he found the host had been hauled up and dumped on the ground, while the man responsible had supposedly been half-dead just two days ago.
It seemed Director Yi was the one who really wanted to see them!
Mo Qianhe suppressed the stale breath in his chest and was the first to speak.
"Director Yi."
His voice was steady, carrying the weight of seventy years.
"You invited us here in someone else's name in the dead of night. What exactly is this little performance supposed to mean?"
His tone was mild, but it held the oppressive presence he had accumulated over decades. An ordinary person would have felt three inches shorter under his stare alone.
Yi Yang did not answer. He stood with his right hand resting on Tiger Roar, as though he had heard nothing.
Seeing Yi Yang continue to ignore him, Mo Qianhe took an angry step forward.
He did not deliberately release his aura, but his third inner qi completion cultivation was there for all to feel. His mere presence made the surrounding air unbearably oppressive.
"You're an outsider from the Heaven Patrol Office. You haven't even found your footing in White Fish City, yet you dare lay hands on its gangs.
"Who do you think you are?"
Mo Qianhe stared straight at Yi Yang as he spoke.
He was testing him.
At last, Yi Yang spoke, his face expressionless.
"My meaning is simple."
He swept