The torrential rain had just ceased. A humid, metallic vapor rose from the bluestone paths of the Capital, carrying the scent of damp earth and the freshness of the downpour. Yet, mingling with this were the whispers of rumors drifting from the teahouses along Zhuque Avenue, weaving an inescapable web that enshrouded the entire city. Shen Mingyue stood atop the watchtower of the Princess’s Estate, her black robes snapping in the wind like a sentinel statue. She gazed toward the Baqiao, where black clouds roiled like a stampeding herd, layered and dense, threatening to crush the earth beneath their weight. Her fingertips traced the cold, intricate patterns of the Qiankun Jade—a mysterious design that seemed to hold boundless power, whispering of ancient secrets. Her eyes were deep and clouded with worry; her mind raced, searching for a way to break the crisis.
Gu Jinghong wound a blood-stained bandage around his arm. The wound, suffered while intercepting the Nether Palace assassins, was still weeping, soaking the cloth and blooming into vivid, jarring red plums across his white attire. "Li Chongshan has raised the Dark Ice battle flag in the camp; he seems ready to force a ruinous confrontation." His voice was low and gravelly, each word seemingly squeezed from the depths of his throat, heavy with concern and vigilance. His eyes kept darting toward Shen Mingyue, filled with an unspoken depth of care.
As she turned, her black cloak swept across a mountain of war reports stac…
Chapter 105