At dawn, the autumn rain was hazy.
Compared to the bright and spacious side room, the woodshed in the corner of the courtyard was cramped, dark, and desolate, with only a faint "um um" sound coming from a man.
Inside the woodshed, the nearly naked Third Prince Xingyin of Yelang was tied with ropes that bound his innate spiritual qi, thrown in the corner. The posture of the binding left him unable to sit up, forcing him to lean against the wall. His mouth was stuffed with a rag, and he was staring with panic, confusion, and anger, struggling to break free from the ropes.
Ever since being knocked out by a mysterious person last night, upon waking, he found himself tied up here. The dim surroundings made it impossible for him to determine where he was; the only thing he was sure of was that this was definitely not his residence.
