Just then, a figure descended from the sky. Wearing a military uniform, the man was tall with resolute features—it was Feng Zhuohua. He landed at the entrance of the courtyard but did not immediately push the door open. Instead, he stood quietly for a moment outside the mottled wooden door before speaking.
"Xu Wuyi?"
His voice wasn't loud, but it reached Xu Wuyi's ears with absolute clarity. Xu Wuyi walked over and opened the door, and the two stood face to face.
Feng Zhuohua looked him up and down, then suddenly smiled. It was a complex smile, tinged with a bit of emotion and an undeniable sense of admiration.
"Good kid," he said. "You actually pulled it off."
Xu Wuyi bowed slightly. "Minister Feng."
Feng Zhuohua waved his hand dismissively. He was about to say something when he suddenly looked up at the sky.
