In the afternoon, a strong wind swept through Yan Capital City.
The desolate autumn wind blew down the last remaining leaves from the branches, causing the temperature to drop sharply.
The already deserted streets now had even fewer people.
Every household shut their doors; the usually bustling and lively Yan Capital City had now turned desolate.
Faced with this sight, Mo Qi had many emotions.
"Another year has passed."
Saying this, he happily took a sip of tea.
The tea leaves were gifted by Shang Jingchuan, not expensive but with quite a bit of flavor.
Rao Mingyue was drenched in sweat, desperately practicing martial arts in the courtyard.
A slight lapse in attention, and Mo Qi, who was sitting in a chair sipping tea, would gently flick his fingers, causing a worn-out piano string to make him taste what it meant to be in unbearable pain and itchiness.
