Conflict is a fundamental element of drama, the engine that drives a plot forward. And just like that, our supporting character, having just escaped death by a hair's breadth, ran into the most unexpected person.
In a remote farmhouse, Song Lianhe was tied to a wooden pillar.
'So that's it,' she thought. 'That's why Zhang Yu got away so fast. He must have escaped through the secret passage in the rockery and followed the underground river to freedom.'
Both of Zhang Yu's hands had been crippled. His wrists were severely red and swollen, his face was deathly pale, and he was on the verge of a complete mental breakdown.
Several men dressed in black stood guard. Judging by their attire, they appeared to be from the same group that had raided the Southern Official.
"Heh heh..." He let out a wild, terrifying laugh, his voice hoarse and punctuated by faint coughs. "Never thought you'd see this day, did you? How the tables have turned. You've fallen into my hands once again!"
