In Luojiang Academy.
The moon was shining brightly like a silver plate high up in the night sky.
Wen Ting was standing on the rooftop of the Mentors' Office. His sleeves swayed gently in the night breeze.
A sword wrapped in rough cloth hung across his body. The sword was enclosed in a leather sheath, its sword intent restrained.
He was unshaven. His eyes were fixated on a dark alley in Luojiang City.
Suddenly, Wen Ting heard footsteps from behind. A hunched elderly appeared beside him. The old man's hair and beard had turned fully white. The smile on his face was warm and kind.
"Headmaster," Wen Ting greeted.
"You introduced Fang Lang to that old grouch for his new sword?" Headmaster Cui asked laughingly.
"Aren't you worried he'll be killed by that temperamental man?"
