A hunched figure gradually emerged from the thick mist, the night as dark as ink, the fog surging.
As the figure approached Qin An, his eyes narrowed slightly, coldly scrutinizing the newcomer.
"Are you the Patriarch Qian?"
The man appeared to be in his sixties, dressed in luxurious clothes, his face deathly pale.
Though he exuded an imposing aura when emerging from the shadows, he suddenly crumbled the moment Qin An spoke, his knees hitting the ground heavily, his posture extremely humble.
"I am the patriarch of the Qian family, paying respects to your excellencies! The previous concealment was out of necessity, I beseech your pardons!"
Madam Qian, seeing her husband kneeling, hurriedly stepped forward, lifting her skirt and kneeling alongside him, kowtowing three loud times to Qin An: "If punishment is due, please place it upon us both, the Qian family is truly innocent!"
