Dawn spilled down, its dazzling radiance etched upon every weathered trace of antiquity on Zhao City's walls. Time flowed on, yet they remained unchanged.
That brilliant light passed through the gates, crossed the walls, swept over the orderly streets, and entered Luo Palace, finally shining upon Luo Zhang.
He wore dark robes, solemn and tranquil. Threads of white had appeared at his temples, and wrinkles filled the corners of his eyes. He knelt beneath a weeping willow, yellowing willow leaves scattered across his mat.
Summer's splendor had faded, and another bleak late autumn had arrived.
Luo Shu knelt quietly opposite Luo Zhang, poured a cup of warm wine, and said softly, "Father.
"A clan caravan returning from the Western Regions to East of the Passes, carrying goods worth fifty million, was intercepted and slaughtered by mounted bandits as it entered Guanzhong.
"All three hundred and seventy-two people died. Not one survived."
A terrifying chill flashed through Luo Zhang's eyes, but his face remained calm as he asked, "Any leads?"
Luo Shu said coldly, "Guanzhong has suffered repeated upheavals. Even the local gentry have fled for their lives, let alone our clan's people. Our hidden agents in Guanzhong have now been almost completely wiped out.
"Ma Teng, Han Sui, Li Jue, and Guo Si all deny responsibility, but in my view, Li Jue and Guo Si are the most likely culprits.
"Those two are shortsighted, brutal by nature, and have no reverence for anything.
"A caravan of over three hundred people-ordinary mounted bandits couldn't have done it. Only the Western Liang Iron Cavalry could.
"Wealth may stir men's hearts, but they still need to live long enough to spend it.
"To think greed blinded them enough to set their sights on our Luo Clan. They're courting death!"
Luo Zhang fell silent