The sound of leather shoes stepping on the ground emitted a dull thud that was neither light nor heavy.
In the vast open space, an endless echo reverberated.
The man slowly made his way to a house.
His dark eyes stared fixedly at the dilapidated and desolate house in front of him.
The retro-style small courtyard was now overgrown with weeds; only a frame remained of the house, its surfaces deeply charred. With the passage of time, the countless seasons of frost and rain made it look even more broken and desolate.
The night wind was desolate, adding to the bleakness.
The man's dark eyelashes fluttered lightly.
Staring at the barren land, swirling depths of obsidian remained hidden within his eyes.
"Aren't you really going in?"
Behind him.
Luo Tingfeng sauntered over, a cigarette clamped in his mouth. His eyes were veiled in a haze of smoke as he cast a thoughtful glance at the distinguished man standing beside him.
"It's been fifteen years."
