The vast meeting hall of the Falling Blossom Villa was cloaked in a heavy, suffocating silence.
Outside the tall, latticed windows carved from pale sandalwood, the faint rustle of drifting cherry blossoms brushed against the tiled eaves.
Yet inside the cavernous chamber, the air was dense and cold, smelling of burning incense and aged paper scrolls.
A broad, rectangular conference table crafted from thousand-year spirit cedar dominated the center of the hall, its polished, dark grain gleaming under the gentle, azure radiance of hanging luminescent spirit stones.
Haoran's entire inner circle, aside from those who were out patrolling, were gathered here, sitting in front of a rectangular table.
At the head of the long table sat the grand high-backed seat, carved from solid white jade and upholstered in deep crimson velvet.
It was reserved for Haoran and remained empty.
