1653
After the emotions of King of Cangming stabilized, Dong Yi stepped forward and whispered a report.
King of Cangming's previously dull eyes suddenly sparkled: "Where is he?"
"Already brought to our resting place."
"Return!" Though King of Cangming had not fully recovered from the reality that his son had been deceased for nearly twenty years, a new hope reignited in his heart.
In a secluded two-courtyard house east of Hengzhou City, Fu Xiuen sat uneasily in the outer hall.
He had been waiting there for almost an hour, yet no one had come, but he knew well that no matter what, he couldn't leave this courtyard.
A little more than an hour ago, he had just left his house when a middle-aged man in fitted attire blocked him, and his little servant was knocked unconscious with a gentle touch while he was brought to this courtyard.
