It was night.
The deep night on Dongpo Mountain was exceptionally quiet, with the bright moon hanging overhead and shadows of bamboo wavering. Occasionally, the chirping of two or three insects was not enough to break the silence of the night.
At Binggui Building on Dongpo Mountain.
Binggui Building has a history of over three hundred years and has always been prepared to welcome the Zhang family's distinguished guests. Its interior is quaint and classical, resembling the boudoirs of ancient noble families.
However, the moment Left Envoy Yang, who was lying in bed, suddenly sat up straight, as if rising from the dead. Wearing only pajamas, he looked around in confusion, seemingly puzzled as to why he was here.
"Ah!" Left Envoy Yang clutched his head in agony.
After a long while, clarity returned to Left Envoy Yang's eyes.
"Yang Chen… Qingqing…" Left Envoy Yang's face changed slightly, as if remembering something.
