Mr. Gao's eyes were fixed on Song Ciwan. Although her Power had completely recovered and even improved, a bone-chilling cold still rose from her spine, instantly piercing her to the core.
Song Ciwan said nothing. She simply met Mr. Gao's gaze as calmly as she could.
Mr. Gao let out a dry chuckle and looked back up at the sky.
This time, he said no more. Only the crimson clouds above swayed and shifted in the Wind, their shadows flitting back and forth, playing out the absurd tragedies and comedies of the Mortal World.
Like a shadow puppet play, a silent drama, the story in the clouds began to unfold without a sound.
Ten members of the Gao Family arrived in Huai Xi Village. The oldest among them, their eldest cousin, was only sixteen. The youngest was Mr. Gao, who was just eight years old.
Among them were six boys and four girls.
