In a small courtyard several streets away from the royal palace, eerie silence prevailed.
Feng Tianci was finding it hard to bear this oppressive atmosphere. He felt suffocated, but forced himself to endure. He'd been standing for so long that his muscles were stiffening.
Just as he began to think that this deadly silence would persist until the end of time, the silhouette in the tree made a slight movement, seemingly looking towards the left.
Feng Tianci felt as if the air, which had almost become solid, was finally shattered. He released a long silent sigh of relief. If it had continued this way, he suspected he might asphyxiate.
At this moment, the old voice inside the house rang out again, "It seems, you've miscalculated."
"Phoenix Dance Nine Heavens? The Shen Family?"
The voice of the figure in the tree still sounded extremely unpleasant, sharp enough to pierce eardrums.
