"Send out the order. Seal off Qixing Lake. The entire clan will wear sackcloth and mourn for Runsheng for three years."
Despite mourning the loss of his dearest relative, Qin Xuan, the Wang Clan's ancestor, remained remarkably composed. Yet, a perfectly measured grief welled in the depths of his eyes.
His already ancient face looked even more ashen.
"As you command, Ancestor... My condolences."
Seeing Qin Xuan looking as if he were at death's door, Wang Runjiang showed a similar grief, his eyes turning red.
The moment he turned around, however, the grief on his face vanished completely.
'The Ancestor's days are numbered. He doted on Clan Brother Runsheng more than anyone; this blow must have hit him the hardest.'
'If I can just outlast him for a few more years, I'll be the next Wang Clan Patriarch!'
Watching Wang Runjiang's departing figure, Qin Xuan couldn't help but laugh to himself.
'Outlive me?'
'We'll see if you have what it takes.'
...
