The cold wind whistled, and the night had turned pitch-black, surrounded by an endless, quiet solitude.
Feng Zhentian sat beside the desk, supporting his head with one hand. Although his eyes were closed, his eyebrows were tightly furrowed.
"Dang! Dang!" The large wooden clock placed in the corner suddenly chimed.
Feng Zhentian was startled, immediately opened his eyes, and looked towards the large wooden clock in the corner, shaking his head with a bitter smile, "It's two o'clock already!" It seemed he was overthinking things.
Yawning, he stood up and moved his somewhat stiff body, stepping toward the study's exit.
A tremendous and terrifying oppression suddenly bore down, causing Feng Zhentian's complexion to instantly pale, filled with an expression of utter despair. They have still come!
At the same time, every member of the Feng Family also felt this oppressive force, waking up from dreams, cultivation, and passionate pursuits...
