"Once this rain falls, we can take action," Huai Xinmei, nestled in the arms of the Angel Envoy, hooked her red lips up sinisterly.
With her slender waist encircled by the Angel Envoy's arm, he hoarsely voiced a single word, "Okay."
Everything was ready; they were just waiting for the storm to start.
Inside the Marquis Residence.
Wu Zhen knelt in front of the prayer hall while Cui Zhi entered from outside. At this moment, a great wind and rain turned the sky a dull yellow, and the leaves were stripped from the trees, signaling the impending storm.
Having struggled to close the door, Cui Zhi tidied her disheveled hair and walked towards Wu Zhen, "Madam."
Wu Zhen, with her hands pressed together and a string of prayer beads draped over her wrist, hummed an acknowledgment and opened her eyes.
"How did it go? Is that scourge still unwilling to submit?"
