Monarch Night

"Damn it!"

Zuo Guanglie was furious, his face darkened as he said, "If you can't speak properly, then shut up, nobody thinks you're mute."

The person instantly shrank his neck.

Another deacon laughed and said, "To be honest, even though Mr. Fang is a bit strict and demanding, working under him indeed has prospects."

"Mr. Fang is quite a talented person."

Zuo Guanglie sighed and said, "But his temper is truly straightforward. If Mr. Fang could bow his head and resolve the misunderstanding with Commander Zhao, his future would likely be limitless."

"If Mr. Fang were to bow, he wouldn't be Mr. Fang."

Another person clearly held a different opinion and said, "As I see it, Mr. Fang has already been quite tolerant. With the kind of suppression from Commander Zhao, anyone else might not have endured and resigned long ago. It's too much bullying, too insulting."

"But Mr. Fang held on and achieved more and more merits. He rose all the way to the position of Chief Steward, and the next step is Hall Master!"

"Thinking about how Mr. Fang behaved during those few days, I completely understand. It's really... about pride."

Everyone sighed over it.

Somehow, whenever people gathered to chat, the topic would drift towards Mr. Fang.

And there were plenty of conversations about him.

Someone curiously asked, "I wonder if there's still any chance between Mr. Fang and Steward Zhao?"

"Steward Zhao hasn't returned yet."

Zuo Guanglie frowned and said, "Mr. Fang is a deeply thoughtful person; no one can see through his intentions, but as I see it, with Steward Zhao... there's at least a sixty percent chance there's nothing."

"And there's still as much as forty percent left?"

"As for this forty percent, it depends on how Steward Zhao acts. As the saying goes, 'a woman's pursuit of a man is separated only by a piece of clothing.' If Steward Zhao can harden his heart, take decisive action, and take Mr. Fang by force... then it won't become reality but will become reality."

Everyone burst into laughter.

They then eagerly discussed what methods should be used to force the matter.

A group of men, especially those who often tread the edges between life and death, really had no taboos when they spoke.

While joking and talking, they hurried on their journey, and soon enough, they arrived at North City.

Looking at the distant newly rebuilt Gu Tower, which was battered and then restored, the fierce wind passed through it, producing a cry of ghosts and wolves.

Zuo Guanglie sighed, "That night felt like a dream."

At this moment, someone laughed and asked, "How was it dream-like?"

Zuo Guanglie said, "You ask again. Haven't I explained it many times? It was right here..."

Suddenly, he felt something was wrong.

Whose voice was that?

Hastily turning his head, he was met with a mouthful of dust caught by the wind, grimacing. Even the flesh on his face trembled from the fierce wind.

Upon closer inspection.

He saw before him a figure dressed in white, tall in stature, about eight feet, with a lean, scholarly appearance typical of middle-aged or older literati.

He just stood there, gracefully and with an air of scholarly elegance.

He was looking at them with smiling eyes.

Behind this white-robed elder, the dust was flying, and the yellow sand filled the sky, as the violent wind seemed to sweep everything away.

Yet, the white-robed elder remained spotless.

Even his white robe seemed motionless, as if frozen in place.

He stood there as if blocking the entire storm of sand. The sand swirled behind him, unable to even touch the front.

Zuo Guanglie and his nine brothers were all stunned, completely unaware of how this elder appeared.

He appeared beside them like a ghostly apparition.

It was somewhat eerie.

"This... who might this senior be?"

Zuo Guanglie remained cautious, his left hand subtly signaling behind him.

The other nine understood and quietly stepped back a few paces, some already gripping signals in their hands.

"You are Steward Zuo Guanglie, right?" The white-robed man smiled amicably and asked.

"Yes, I am indeed Zuo Guanglie, and you are...?"

Zuo Guanglie was uncertain and suspicious.

The person before him seemed to harbor no malice or killing intent. Could he be a senior from the Guardian Hall or the Guardian?

The white-robed man smiled faintly, "It really is Steward Zuo. Now that I've found the genuine article, I can rest easy."

Zuo Guanglie was even more puzzled, scratching his head, "Senior, you sought me for... what reason?"

"Since I'm looking for you, naturally there's something important."

The white-robed man raised his eyes, smiling as he introduced himself, "I am Yin Shen Palace."

"So, it's Senior Yin..."

Zuo Guanglie was about to greet him with a smile when he abruptly stepped back three paces, suddenly breaking into a cold sweat, dumbstruck as if seeing a ghost, "Yin... Yin Shen Palace?"

"That's me."

Yin Shen Palace nodded, hands behind his back, smiling.

Zuo Guanglie wanted to call out, but his emotions surged, and he couldn't make a sound. The deacons behind him had already acted, launching four signal rockets into the sky.

However, they fell silently after rising only three feet.

"Steward Zuo, shall we talk outside the city? Do I need to invite you, or will you come along willingly?"

Yin Shen Palace smiled.

The lean face already displayed a hint of ferocity.

Zuo Guanglie was chilled to the bone, his heart filled with despair. He wanted to curse out loud but found he couldn't produce a sound.

His body went limp and collapsed, and as he fell, his despairing eyes saw that his nine brothers had already collapsed to the ground as well.

Only heard the light sigh of Yin Shen Palace's voice: "The wind sweeps the yellow sand, the sky dims, how can one appreciate the spring of March; when the dust settles next year, flowers will bloom without today's soul."

The wind howled even more fiercely, the dust whirled suddenly, the entire space was filled with a yellow haze, and it was impossible to see any figures clearly.

And the silhouette of Yin Shen Palace flickered in the sandstorm, taking Zuo Guanglie and the other ten into the enveloping sandstorm.

Vanished without a trace.

The gale raged even more wildly, as if the heavens were enraged, causing sand and stones to strike the city as if in a furious hailstorm.