Lao Meng had known from the get-go that he would ask this question, so he didn’t panic, bringing up the answer he had pre-prepared: from the infighting between Gao Chong and Zhao Jing, to Xue Fang’s appearance, as well as Sun Ding’s impetuous advancement and presently-unknown status.

The other gave an ah. “In light of what you’ve said, Sun Ding has likely been lost within it?” he asked, mild.

Lao Meng lowered his head to admit his error. “It was this subordinate that had handled it poorly.”

Wen Kexing went quiet. There was extreme silence all around. Lao Meng couldn’t help but want to look up to see his reaction, yet rigidly controlled himself — for eight years, this man had been an existence to make one shudder, and when he was quiet, he could make their skin crawl all the more.

Yet, unexpectedly, after waiting a long time, he only heard Wen Kexing drop one airy phrase from his mouth. “Since guests are arriving, go make preparations. They are renowned jianghu names that cannot be slighted.”

Lao Meng could finally no longer control himself, raising his head to see him. He had been holding the notion that he would be losing a layer of skin, not expecting that the other would be so tolerant as to let him go.

“Is there anything else?” Wen Kexing asked, expressionless.

Lao Meng hurriedly shook his head. “No. This subordinate will withdraw.”

Bent over with his head lowered, he faced the man as he drew back to the entryway, after which he respectfully bowed again, then turned to leave. However, Wen Kexing seemed to have suddenly remembered something, calling out to him. “Hold on a second.”

Lao Meng’s cheek twitched a little. He didn’t dare to look up, pausing in his steps in accordance with his words.

“Ah-Xiang has freshly found a husband,” he heard the other say, slightly cheerfully. “I promised that I would give her an accompanying two-and-a-half streets of dowry. Go get that ready for me, and don’t be too stingy.”

“Understood,” Lao Meng answered, stooping over.

Upon withdrawal, he came to be under the sun, and gently wiped the cold sweat off his face, stoic as he walked away. An ominous premonition abruptly caged his heart, as he had the general feeling that the man appeared to have gleaned something… he had about eighty-percent certainty of the outcome right now, but there were still some variables, such as the missing Hanged Ghost, Xue Fang.