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Half a month later.
“Mother! Mother!” Ying An burst in from the courtyard, calling out breathlessly, “Master Song is here to see you!”
Song Yehuang was one of the leading figures of the Clear Stream faction, a movement of upright scholars and reform-minded nobles. He had gathered a modest following of his own, including a few cultivators who still clung to ideals.
Not every martial artist was scrambling to carve off a piece of this land. Some high ranked cultivators still supported the Clear Stream faction.
Though, truthfully, more of them had long since turned their eyes eastward toward the Eastern Sea, uninterested in the crumbling politics of the Central Plains.
Ying An entered the room to find his mother calmly sipping tea, unhurried and composed. He gave a wry smi...
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