"Hold on..."
These words, spoken leisurely, carried the smell of alcohol and drowsiness from deep within, momentarily suppressing the murderous intent brimming in the sheathed swords.
The martial artists in this courtyard mostly worked under the provincial government. Their abilities aside, their eyesight was unquestionably sharp. Tonight, too many nobles had passed through, and with many uncertainties in the events, their nerves had already been strained to the limit. At these words, their movements paused subconsciously, and their weapons clanged noisily.
Simultaneously, they turned sharply toward the source of the sound and discovered that the speaker was no noble but merely an ordinary old man whose clothes seemed as if they hadn't been changed in a long time, pressing down on him like iron, reeking of alcohol.
Such people were common in Liangzhou, merely old drunkards.
