Wen Yan slept like a baby.
After his whole body was brimming with yang energy, holding the Warm Jade, a gentle warmth seeped out from inside, like days of pouring rain suddenly giving way to clear skies, a gentle breeze outside, the air high and crisp, neither cold nor hot, not too humid or too dry—people would feel exceptionally comfortable.
He had no idea that tonight, more than one group had their eyes on his new home.
But even if he knew, he probably wouldn't care much. As long as they didn't come looking for trouble, he just wanted to get a good night's sleep.
He'd only been on the job for a few days, and he'd already pulled two or three all-nighters. He was really running out of steam.
If it weren't for the director and Feng Yao, representing the Funeral Home and the Scorching Sun Department, both stuffing sweet talk into his mouth, he really would've hit his limit.
