BANG!
The wine glass fell from Zhao Yinghu's hand, shattering on the ground. At that moment, it wasn't just a glass that had broken, but his heart as well. That final glimmer of hope had failed to ignite into a raging fire, and the miracle he desperately wished for never appeared.
After decades in the Martial World, have I forgotten the taste of utter despair?
In that instant, he seemed to have aged ten years. His figure swayed, and if Yan Zheng hadn't been there to support him, he would have collapsed.
"Lord Hu!" Yan Zheng wore a look of complete despair. The domain they had toiled decades to build was about to be handed over. Who wouldn't be in despair?
Zhao Yinghu shoved him away and propped himself up on a nearby table, shaking his head. "I'm fine!"
"Call Mr. Chen! He's the only one who can save us now!" Yan Zheng said bitterly.
