The Bai Clan's manor, once a symbol of prosperity and righteousness, had been rebuilt, but it was now occupied by the Liang Clan, a faction that had seized the opportunity to claim the spoils of the Bai Clan's demise.
The imposing structure, though refurbished, still bore the faint scars of the past, a silent testament to the tragedy that had unfolded.
Linlin, perched on Yun Lintian's shoulder, was unusually quiet. Her eyes, usually sparkling with mischief and curiosity, were now filled with a deep, almost melancholic gaze. She was sensing something, something that resonated with her very being.
"Big Brother Yun," she murmured, her voice soft and trembling slightly, "I can feel it. The White Tiger's aura… it's lingering here."
