```
Crack, crack, crack...
Bang.
The wine cup was slammed heavily onto the tea table, the sound grating on the ears.
In the serene loft, a few strands of a hot breeze stirred up.
Rao Wangze sat before the table, his face and body both shrouded in a hazy, azure wind, betraying a hint of impatience.
He remained silent, casting a glance toward the golden-robed man wearing a golden mask to his left. It was Huang Quan.
Indeed, one of the family heads of the five great aristocratic families of the Holy Emperor, Wangze Holy Emperor, and the Chief of the dark faction, Yama, Huang Quan, were now sitting together at the same tea table—an unimaginable scene for both in their lifetimes.
Crack, crack, crack...
Compared to the unrest shown by Wangze Holy Emperor, Huang Quan also sat, albeit somewhat stiffly.
His posture was upright, almost rigid, his hands hung straight down by his sides without the natural curve of relaxed joints, appearing like a wooden statue.
