In the quiet courtyard.
Hei Feng stood as if on thin ice, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
At the stone table ahead, Zhou Yuanfeng sipped from his cup, the amber liquid glimmering in the moonlight.
The surroundings were silent, no one spoke.
After a long silence, Zhou Yuanfeng suddenly put down his cup, his gaze sweeping toward Hei Feng like lightning.
Hei Feng's spine went cold at once, and he hurriedly lowered his head.
"He's doing well." Zhou Yuanfeng's tone was indifferent: "After the first victory, he spent his days immersed in the Confidential Library."
Hei Feng wiped away his cold sweat, cautiously saying: "I heard a copper Prefecture General fell..."
Zhou Yuanfeng said casually: "Swords have no eyes, one or two deaths are hardly worth mentioning. Instead of worrying about Qin An, think about how to survive the Hunter Conference."
Hei Feng was dumb as a wooden chicken, not daring to speak again.
