The middle-aged man was tall and thin, with his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes were as sharp and piercing as a hawk's. As his gaze swept over the crowd, no one dared to meet his stare. Even the briefest eye contact felt like a dagger to the back, sending a chill through their bodies.
His tone was as indifferent as the wind, yet it carried an unquestionable air of command.
This was everyone's first and most direct impression of the man: He's so powerful!
That was the effect of him merely speaking. What would happen if he drew the longsword from his back? No one could imagine.
At the sight of this man, Zhong Qian grew ecstatic and yelled with all his might, "Lord Chen, save me!"
During this trip back, Zhong Qian had happened to share a carriage with the man, who was on his way to Lingjin City on business. This man was the source of Zhong Qian's confidence, the very reason he dared to threaten Chen Yang.
