Before Song Xiuyuan’s words had even faded, the sound of hurried footsteps approached from afar.
Mosong crossed the courtyard, his robes stirring fallen blossoms in his wake. By the time he reached his master, a thin layer of sweat had formed on his brow. Usually composed, the guard’s expression was now grave. He leaned in close to Song Xiuyuan and whispered a few words.
The courtyard fell silent. Fu Yingzhi, having retreated three paces away, caught only fragmented words: "Beining," "border," and "raid."
Chapter 44