"Ha... cough cough cough..."
A fierce cough interrupted Toyotomi Hideyoshi's cold laughter.
His emaciated body hunched over, and he covered his mouth tightly with a handkerchief, dark red seeping between his fingers, which he swiftly hid in his bosom.
As his breathing steadied, he raised his eyes, his murky yet sharp gaze fixed on the silhouette seated opposite him.
In the shadows, a man sat cross-legged.
It was Zhao Changsheng, whom Li Yan had faced many times but never met.
He wore simple Japanese hunting clothes, his long hair casually tied at the back of his head. His complexion still bore the pallor of a recent illness, but his eyes were deep like an abyss, showing no sign of weakness.
A vast and chilling spiritual power flowed around him like a lurking beast, causing the paper lanterns in Tenshu Tower to sway gently.
