The stern, silver-haired elderly strode over as swiftly as the thunder, moving like the wind. Every strand of his hair was pencil straight. There was a malicious glint in his eyes, like a northern goshawk soaring across the skies above as it overlooked the crowd below.
"Head Butler!" For the regular clansman of the Feng Clan, he was an important person who ruled their fate.
The nosy spectators bowed their head in respect, not daring to even let out a gasp.
The person who fought against Feng Lin was alarmed, then seized the opportunity to escape from the area of Feng Lin's techniques. They stood unmoving at their spot; their body stayed idle.
Feng Lin didn't bow. Instead, his eyes remained fixated on the approaching silver-haired elderly. There was a hint of recognition amid their unfamiliarity.
This was the elderly who had informed him of his interview at their clan's factory.
