The wind in the night was very cold.

It was raising Qin Ye's black hair, and the tea he was holding, which wasn't all that hot to begin with, was quickly cooling.

It seemed that even the wind could sense the unrest peril lurking beneath the surface, and it was howling as a warning to him.

Qin Ye sat beside his window and looked out at the moon for a while, then swept a hand through the air, upon which a stack of documents on the table flew over to him before slowly unfurling in mid-air, revealing a series of lines of names.

Celtic Underworld, Semitic Underworld, Hopi Underworld, Red Moon Underworld Federation... Right at this moment, a gentle voice rang out from outside. "Your Excellency, Ghost King Zhao and Abyssal Prefect Qin request an audience with you."

"Come in," Qin Ye said as he leafed through the documents, and soon, the sliding door was silently opened, following which Zhao Yun and Qin Changxin strode into the room.

Qin Ye raised his chin toward the teapot, but didn't say anything as he continued to read the documents. Zhao Yun and Qin Changxin didn't say anything, either, and after they had a few cups of tea, Qin Ye finally closed the documents before casting a contemplative gaze toward the night sky. "None of the powerful underworlds have arrived, and the most powerful foreign underworld emissaries present are only Abyssal Prefects..."

He picked up his teacup, but only held it up to his lips and didn't drink from it. "So what is giving them...