Shen Hong sat at his seat, having held his wine cup for a long time. The wine had swayed against the rim several times, yet he had never brought it to his lips.
His gaze rested on the head of the table. Ye Zong was speaking with two elders of the Wind Snow Family, occasionally lifting the cup before him for a sip. His movements were unhurried, betraying nothing unusual.
But Shen Hong watched closely. Whenever Ye Zong raised his hand, his shoulder moved a little less than a normal person's would, as though he were deliberately limiting his movements to avoid pulling at some part of his body.
Ye Han's sword had pierced deep. Although an elixir might have suppressed the poison smeared on the blade, its lingering traces would not be purged so quickly. Ye Zong would need at least another half month to recover fully from his injuries.
Shen Hong repeatedly weighed that window of opportunity. Half a month was neither long nor short.
If he could find a suitable opening tonight and strike before anyone reacted, his chances of victory against the injured Ye Zong would be at least seventy percent.
There were plenty of guards around, but as long as he struck quickly enough and succeeded in a single blow, it would be too late even if the others reacted.
The problem was that Ye Zong remained at the head of the table, with people constantly at his side. Nie Li sat at a side table, Duan Jian stood in a corner, and Du Ze moved about from time to time. They seemed scattered, yet they subtly formed a semicircle, blocking every route toward Ye Zong.
Shen Hong tapped his fingers lightly against the tabletop twice, a habit of his when thinking.
He needed an