Shu Guan did not return to Zouma Hall until late at night.
He had hidden for a good ten hours in the small world of the ten-eyed treasured pearl, thinking that Li Changqing, no matter how patient, should have left by then before he emerged from the small world of the ten-eyed treasured pearl.
When he came out, the street outside "He Lai Chun" teahouse had returned to its usual bustling state.
Dapper young noblemen and ladies of high society shuttled between the various coffee houses and bars, presenting scenes of peace and prosperity as if nothing had happened during the day.
Only the main door of "He Lai Chun" teahouse was now sealed off.
The deaths of several white-skinned people here were by no means a minor issue for the mortals of Shen City, and the storm that ensued was bound to last a long time.
At eight in the evening, Shu Guan returned to Zouma Hall.
He sat on the first floor, lost in thought for a while.
