The afternoon wind grew fiercer,
blowing against the jade green tiles on the crimson high walls of the Kong Mansion, making them clatter.
Chen Nuanyu silently surveyed the crowd, pondering whether there might be other presences here.
As her thoughts wandered,
her gaze finally rested on the mysterious youth in coarse clothing, causing the many Divine Spirits in her heart to fall silent for some unknown reason.
Meanwhile, that youth held a wooden bowl, with a thousand golden threads floating within, and at this moment he spoke:
"It is my honor to have everyone come to my door."
After a pause,
Zhang Fusheng kept his gaze fixed on the youth who called himself Yang Jian, continuing:
"Yet I am but a humble person and do not know how I could be of assistance, for which I am truly ashamed."
When he finished speaking, an elderly man hastily spoke:
