On a chilly spring morning in the Divine Capital, the cold was biting enough to kill the young.
Qing Yu, dressed as a scholar, casually ordered a few pork buns from a breakfast stall by the roadside. He sat at a nearby table, savoring the buns while sipping soy milk.
"Brother, may I join your table?" A polite voice asked shortly after he sat down.
"Go ahead," Qing Yu smiled at the newcomer as he responded.
The person sat down with a basket of steamed dumplings, picked one up with his chopsticks, and sent a message telepathically: "I've informed Mr. Ouyang. Meng De has discovered traces of the Cangsheng Sect from the Western Regions, seemingly plotting something insidious. He has already gone to track their whereabouts."
Throughout his speech, the man didn't glance sideways, as if not talking to Qing Yu at all. But judging by his appearance, was this not Feng Jiu?
Qing Yu nodded silently to indicate he understood.
