Above the candy shop, in a loft.
A man stood draped in a black cloak, his face half-covered by a silver mask. His ink-black hair was bound by a jade coronet, and his hawk-like eyes were cold and inscrutable.
"...The Young Madam also said... said she would definitely hand the warhorses over to him and told him to rest assured. And then..." The Shadow Guard glanced at his master, swallowed hard, and added with difficulty, "The Young Madam arranged to meet him west of the city tonight."
The man remained silent. His tall, slender figure was like a solitary, prideful pine standing between heaven and earth—upright and unyielding, emanating a bone-chilling cold. He was detached from the mundane world, yet unaccepted by it.
The Shadow Guard grew anxious. "Warlord, this subordinate will take men to lie in wait tonight! We absolutely cannot let that Prince Ling get what he wants!"
