The bright moonlight poured down like mercury, enveloping the dark courtyard in a layer of cold silver glow, the only source of light in the night.
As Zhao Wuhuan finished speaking, Qin An approached with the stride of a dragon, sitting directly opposite him and picking up a jar of strong wine to drink deeply.
The wine trickled down his jaw, glinting with an amber hue under the moonlight.
"Usually you don't touch a drop, but tonight you're quite spirited," Zhao Wuhuan snapped his folding fan shut, a playful smile in his eyes.
Qin An slammed the wine jar heavily on the stone table, creating a crisp sound as porcelain collided with stone.
"I've heard of major events; naturally, one must drink to celebrate." He tapped the jar with his fingertips and looked up, "The assessment for Mountain Patrol General is imminent?"
A sharp gleam flashed in Zhao Wuhuan's eyes: "How did you know it was about this matter?"
