Rumble-
Rolling thunder coursed through the heavy clouds, casting White Stone Plaza before Taihua Hall alternately into light and shadow.
Countless palace lanterns swayed in the wind along the Thousand-Pace Corridor beside White Stone Plaza, yet not a single person could be seen in the vast Palace City.
Tap, tap...
In the long corridor, an elderly eunuch in red robes and a black gauze hat walked slowly along the path he had traveled for sixty years, his back slightly stooped and a horsetail whisk resting in the crook of his arm.
Though his dress and bearing remained impeccable and his steps unhurried, the several saber wounds across his chest and back still lent Cao Gonggong, who had rarely lost his composure in his life, a somewhat bedraggled look.
Though his energy channels had been unblocked, his power had dissipated, and potent medicines could restore little of his reserves; ten years imprisoned in the dungeon had aged his body, leaving it far less indestructible than before.
Against Qiu Tianhe, who had long been conserving his strength, Cao Gonggong had still found his strength falling short of his will. Though he had won, his injuries were far worse than Qiu Tianhe's.
But Cao Gonggong did not care about any of that. Born in Palace City, he had fulfilled his loyalty to Great Yan, then done everything he could for Great Wei.
All he sought now was to die in Palace City. Dying sooner would merely bring that wish to rest sooner.
Following his old nighttime patrol route, Cao Gonggong left the corridor and walked along Taihua Hall's white-stone foundation toward the other side of the plaza.
Halfway across, lightning flashed.
Crack-
Then another figure appeared before Taihua Hall.
The figure wore a brilliant red dress and held a red oilpaper umbrella. Her