The sun set in the west, and the fire finally subsided.
After the roaring flames engulfed it, the carved dragons on the caisson were no more, and the interior of Yuanfeng Building was burned to emptiness. Approaching it, one's feet encountered green glazed tiles covered in gray-black ash. Looking up, one could still see the towering high-rise, but with the wind blowing, ash drifted, leaving only a skeleton of sorts standing. It had witnessed too many honors and humiliations, rises and falls, changes of fortune, and now it was its turn. At this moment, it stood silent, speechless, like a tall pine, drawing a profound silence from the earth.
Not far from Yuanfeng Building, in a courtyard, Liuyang Zhaigong pushed the dusty and dirty housekeeper over. The latter was pushed to his knees on the ground, and upon looking up, he saw Huang Jing's cold face.
"Master Huang, when we saw him, he was still trying to pack his belongings and escape," Liuyang Zhaigong said slowly.
