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Bowang City.
Immortal Platform.
It was deep into the night when the cold, white moonlight streamed through the window lattice. The four-tiered door creaked open, revealing the silhouette of An Cang holding a sword outside.
Wudong lowered his head slightly and poured a cup of tea for the person beside him.
"What's the matter?" Sifeng of Tianshan sat cross-legged, placing his sword across his knees.
"There was some activity last night," Wudong said.
An Cang raised an eyebrow.
"Just now, Li Weiru sent a message. Someone has set their sights on that residence. There were signs of it being probed last night, but they have not yet entered," Wudong looked up, his grey-white eyes peering over, "Prepare yourself in the next couple of days."
An Cang thought for a moment, "Did I not see in Luo Defeng's report yesterday that Shang Huaitong's state of mind has been compromised, and he can no longer wield the Thought Sword?"
