"Young Master, they have arrived!"
Suddenly, an aged voice emerged from the silent, snow-like attic. A white-haired, skinny old man clad in black Confucian scholar's robes, resembling an old vine, appeared in the attic with halting, phantom-like steps.
The owner of the gaze turned around, with the bright moonlight shining through the window onto his completely changed, fierce face. It was none other than Yan Hui, the son of Saint Yan Hui!
Rubbing his somewhat tight facial skin, Yan Xingzhi said in a cold voice, "Lead the way!"
"Please, Young Master, follow me!" The old man shakily led the way in front, bringing Yan Xingzhi to the counter on the first floor of the Elegant Scholar Pavilion.
With such a grave incident occurring—Saint Yan Hui's fall and the downfall of Elegant Scholar Pavilion's strongest support—the pavilion was now desolate compared to its previous full house of guests.
