Three days later.
A small flying boat took advantage of the night to take off from Upper Sun City. The flying boat was about fifteen meters long, shaped like a flat leaf. It rose with the wind, and its speed was extremely fast.
The raging wind outside the boat cut like a knife, but the light shield on the surface of the flying boat blocked it, splashing ripples.
On the deck.
A young man dressed in splendid attire, with sword-like eyebrows and star-like eyes, stood tall and proud. He stood with his hands behind his back, looking down at the receding silhouette of Upper Sun City, his face as calm as water.
This young man was Zhao Zhongliu, the eldest son of the head of the Zhao Family, one of the Eight Great Noble Families. He was now on the run.
"Young Master, are we just leaving like this?"
"We have only returned to the city recently, and now we are leaving. The other noble families will surely laugh at the Young Master."
