Torches were lit one after another, bathing the courtyard in a bright light.
The students of the Imperial College stood in neat rows, glancing at one another in confusion.
Tang Zhongli stood before them, his expression grim.
At his feet lay an ibis, its body covered entirely in red feathers.
"I will ask one more time. Who did this?"
The courtyard was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Some looked utterly bewildered, unsure of what was happening. Others craned their necks to get a better look, their eyelids twitching nervously.
'Who didn't know? Aside from reading and writing, the Lord Sacrificial Officer's greatest pleasure was raising birds. This crimson ibis, in particular, was his favorite, and he always took meticulous care of it himself.'
But today, it had met with a sudden accident—it was dead.
It looked as if it had been shot straight through the chest and abdomen with an arrow, but a search of the area had turned up nothing.
Tang Zhongli took a deep breath.
