Zhuo Yangyang turned around and flashed an apologetic smile at Xue An, "Lord Xue, I must leave for a moment. Uncle Zhuo will arrange your accommodation!"
Xue An had been standing aside, watching coldly from the beginning to the end, and merely nodded noncommittally even after hearing Zhuo Yangyang's words.
Zhuo Yangyang hurried off.
The old steward watched Xue An, who stood in the courtyard with a calm expression, and couldn't help but feel astounded.
As the chief steward of the Zhuo Family, he had naturally come into contact with many prominent figures.
He had even once caught a distant glimpse of the City Lord of the Cursed City, the cursed empress herself.
But regardless of the stature of these figures, their auras were always traceable.
However, facing this young man, the chief steward found himself confronting what seemed like an unfathomably deep ocean, profound enough to send shivers through one's heart.
