Duan Qingyu withdrew his hand, merely saying: "In any case, you are all City Lords, leaders, and generals of our Southwest, prominent figures, why such a loss of composure, drawing weapons in front of the people, aren't you afraid of losing face?"
Duan Qingyu withdrew his hand, strode out, and said:
"Why is it so noisy outside?"
That feeling Meng Zehao had just perceived, as if facing a legendary general, vanished, as if everything before was merely his own misjudgment. He looked at Duan Qingyu's back, uncertain and suspicious.
Duan Qingyu strode out, his gaze sweeping; a guard had already said: "My lord, something big has happened."
Duan Qingyu said: "What big thing happened?"
The guard said: "Someone has taken down the notice."
