Middle Ancient City.
City Gate.
The night wind was chilly.
Moonlight scattered, bringing a sense of coldness.
The ancient, tall city gate exuded a mysterious aura.
On the ground before the gate, there were some bloodstains, dried and embedded into the stone floor.
Su Chen and Zhao Lingxi stood before the city gate, Zhao Lingxi, somewhat worried, clinging to Su Chen's arm, while Su Chen silently stared at the bloodstains on the ground.
Not far away, two men in black silently lowered their heads, appearing respectful and fearful, as if they had completely merged with the night; yet, in front of Su Chen and Zhao Lingxi, they remained tense.
After a long time, Su Chen raised his head, looked at the two men in black, and said, "Wu Qi disappeared about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, correct?"
