One hundred and forty-eight years old.
An Ning didn't interrupt the Feng Shui Master again. Within the low courtyard walls, accompanied by the faint, mournful whistle of the wind, the Feng Shui Master told his story.
"In my life, I've known glory and disgrace. I've fought battles and carried a guilty conscience."
"In the arrogance of my youth, I relied on my abilities and did something I would regret for the rest of my life."
The Feng Shui Master let out a long sigh, his gaze drifting into the distance.
"Because I lost my composure while drunk and leaked vital information, all the villagers here were slaughtered in a single night. It was all my fault."
"Everyone who knew has slowly passed away, leaving only me to watch over this place. I suppose you could call it my atonement."
Though the Feng Shui Master didn't elaborate, he was using his own experience to warn An Ning.
