Inside the teahouse, three people were still, as if captured in an oil painting.
This eerie silence persisted for a long time.
A moment later, Su Rin spoke, "What are you really up to, Su Ming'an?"
Earlier, after coming from the Roseblood Factory, Su Ming'an had entered this teahouse. All three wore masks to prevent their identities from being exposed and causing chaos.
The teahouse was not as desolate as it had been ten years ago, perhaps because of the Fuyuan Festival. Even late at night, it was crowded with people, and the arrival of the three did not attract anyone's attention.
"Just having tea," Su Ming'an said.
"Then why have you brought him along?" Su Rin pointed at Lin Guang.
"I brought him along for tea," Su Ming'an said. "Teahouses are the most convenient places to gather information. I haven't been back in ten years, so I'm here to listen to what the masses have to say."
Lin Guang smiled, like a beautiful backdrop painting.
