After leaving Yu Xueqian, Song Changsheng returned to the grand hall where the meeting had taken place. The Restriction was still active, but the two inside must not have come to blows. Otherwise, the hall would have long since been reduced to dust.
Zhuang Yuechan and Xing Zhao were seated in a domed pavilion not far away, looking as if they had been waiting there the entire time.
"Are your master and my grandfather still not done talking?" Song Changsheng asked, glancing at the position of the moon. A full ancient hour had already passed.
"Not yet. But I don't think it's anything serious. Just relax and wait," Xing Zhao replied, as calm as ever.
Nodding slightly, Song Changsheng walked over and sat down beside them.
Zhuang Yuechan suddenly wrinkled her small, elegant nose. A hint of suspicion appeared on her face as she asked, perplexed, "What's that scent on you? Why is it so fragrant?"
