When the bad news about Feng Bo Pavilion spread, Yue Ping fought his way out of the siege covered in blood. Behind him are the remnants of the Yue Family Army, with eternal hatred burning in their eyes. He looked back to the north, where black clouds pressed against the broken mountains and rivers. Before the father's blood had even run cold, the imperial court had already knelt down under the golden man's horse's hooves. He tightened his grip on the reins, his knuckles turned white - then he toppled the shabby temple, turning Lin'an's music and songs into the wind of sacrificial flags.
