A chill crawled up Xue Ping's spine, something must have happened, something he was unaware of that had drastically worsened the situation.
Perhaps it was the matter of Zhao Zhong that had made these people wary of him, choosing intentionally or unintentionally not to inform him. Or perhaps it was for some other reason, but everyone knew—the noble families knew—everyone except him.
He silently admonished himself not to be disorganized, and he deeply regretted that, had the letters been sent out yesterday, perhaps the situation would not have turned so dire.
At the very least, it could have given him a respite, reducing the suspicion people had of him.
After the incident, he didn't explain himself immediately, and with a night's time for things to ferment, perhaps other unknown incidents had occurred; the situation could not get any worse.
