A guest room in the Sacred Land.
At first glance, it seemed ordinary, not particularly glittering with gold, but each detail was meticulously crafted. There were purple sandalwood tables and chairs, with Jiangnan's distinctive Yue porcelain placed on top, a set of three vases with copper-green glaze, and the bronze lamp was scented with agarwood.
On the purple sandalwood short table, there were a variety of curious and exotic objects, inlaid with gold and jade. Beside it stood a bookshelf containing all kinds of classics, encompassing works from every school of thought.
The floor was covered with a thick, soundless carpet.
In this typical Jiangnan room, people moved about in a flurry, and it seemed everyone inside wore a frantic expression.
The polished surface of the Bronze Mirror reflected a young face, its haggard and ashen complexion unconcealable, pale and unconscious.
Candles lit the room, illuminating the many faces surrounding him—all of them women.
