In the end, Shen Yanchuan bought the flower lantern after all.
Its soft glow illuminated him, a gentleman as refined as jade.
The streets were still bustling, but Shen Yanchuan seemed a little tired. He carried the lantern and started heading back.
As he passed through a small alley, the clamor of the streets gradually faded.
Just as he turned a corner, the sound of something slicing through the air suddenly rang out!
Lian Zhou's heart tightened, and he instantly drew his sword!
CLANG!
The sharp sound of impact was jarring in the quiet corner.
Shen Yanchuan stopped and lowered his gaze to the ground.
It was a steel nail, about an inch long. It had flown at an incredible speed; if it had hit, it likely would have embedded itself directly into bone.
The moon was high in the western sky, casting down its cold light. The steel nail reflected a faint, eerie glow that was chilling to the bone.
The corners of Shen Yanchuan's lips lifted slightly.
