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Inside Wuling City, within a teahouse, a storyteller spoke passionately. His voice was deep and steady, drawing listeners effortlessly into his tale.
At a table by the window, a cold-faced young woman sat quietly with a lovely girl beside her, though neither seemed to be listening.
"Mother, Father isn't in trouble, is he?" Liang Yunhui finally asked.
They had been in Wuling City for some days. A few days earlier, they had gone to the Inkfeather Sword Sect to have someone inform her father, only to be told that no such person existed.
"Perhaps he's dead…" Liang Yuhan replied calmly, her tone revealing neither sorrow nor joy. Her expression was unreadable as she stared blankly out the window.
After months of arduous travel, the result she received was that the man no longer existed. More than ten years ago, she had been deeply captivated by a brilliant man and, under his persistent pursuit, they slept together. Not long after, he said he had urgent matters and needed to leave. Before departing, however, he told her that his name was Su Xinlin of the Inkfeather Sword Sect and...
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