Midnight.
Moonless and windy.
At the three-way junction of Wutong Grove District, several figures quietly converged. It was Shang Qinglai and his companions, each dressed in plain casual wear. Even the servant's knives they carried were wrapped in coarse cloth, barely recognizable unless drawn.
Suddenly.
The blowing wind paused briefly.
It was in this moment of still air that a figure silently appeared in the darkness ahead of the group, startling Shang Qinglai and the others so much that they nearly drew their blades. But they quickly recognized the newcomer as Chen Mu.
"Sir."
Shang Qinglai and the others sighed in relief and lowered their voices to greet him.
Chen Mu glanced at the six men and said, "Let's go."
"Yes."
Shang Qinglai and the others responded and followed Chen Mu.
But soon, someone looked around, a peculiar expression flashing in his eyes, and nudged Shang Qinglai.
