A rather gloomy atmosphere had settled over the Bai Mansion in recent days— heavy, silent, and almost suffocating. Even the servants moved about as if walking on thin ice, their footsteps hesitant and voices barely above whispers. An unspoken anxiety drifted through the air, as if the mansion itself was holding its breath.
Little Tyler, seated by the window in his usual quiet corner, gently rubbed his fingers together, as though trying to feel the strange tension in the air. His white hair fluttered softly in the cold breeze slipping in from a crack in the window.
"A rather gloomy atmosphere has spread within the mansion over the past few days." he muttered, almost as if speaking to himself.
