"Are you Tangyu?" a somewhat heavy and aged voice rang out.
Tangyu glanced sideways and his gaze fell on the figure who had just been sitting directly opposite Elder Yang. The man appeared to be just over fifty years old, a generation younger than Elder Yang. However, the fact that he could sit opposite Elder Yang indicated that his status could not be low. The man was seated in a wheelchair, his face somewhat pallid and gaunt, even a hint of jaundice could be detected, though one had to look closely to notice it.
His gaze was gentle, yet it revealed a sharpness akin to that of a well-kept blade, as if rust could not hide the edge of a fine sword.
