Mrs. Han Yao stood alone on the terrace, overlooking the City Lord's Mansion in the night, her expression mournful.
She was pretending.
Lights blazed throughout the mansion as box after box of confidential documents were moved out of Mu Qiu's courtyard.
She had arranged it.
Several divine thoughts occasionally swept over her.
The ones with three parts concern, four parts affection, one part sorrow, and one part secret delight should belong to those elders from the Jade Heart Sect.
As for the cold ones, they were likely from the cultivators of the Sword Hall.
Boring men, thought Mrs. Han Yao, recalling Zhang Ze's appearance.
That boy was still a bit more interesting.
Stubborn yet not too aloof.
His sly demeanor was also quite amusing.
Moreover, there was a familiar aura about him.
"Xiaolian."
Mrs. Han Yao instinctively called out.
But there was no answer.
After a while.
