After brewing for half the day, a heavy snow began to fall.
The snow fell furiously. In less than half an hour, every high-rise, small courtyard, street, and alley was covered in a blanket of white. The occasional line of footprints would appear, only to quickly vanish again into the vast whiteness.
Chen Yang walked alone on the street, letting the wind and snow brush across his face.
At this moment, talk about the annihilation of the Wang Family and its countless casualties was causing a clamor throughout the outside world. Some said the Wang Family got what it deserved. Others claimed that the Former Supreme Martial Commander was cruel and bloodthirsty, teetering on the brink of madness and about to plummet into the abyss.
Chen Yang turned a deaf ear. He could not silence the wagging tongues of the world, nor could the masses stop his slaughter.
Bloodthirsty or mad, it made no difference. I, Chen Yang, had a clear conscience before heaven, earth, and this world.
