The middle-aged man's features were gentle, with no imposing air. He wore a plain robe, blending in perfectly with the bamboo forest.
The only incongruity was the small hole in his palm, still oozing blood.
The Golden Governor noticed Zhang Fusheng's gaze and raised his hand nonchalantly, speaking calmly:
"That day, I overestimated myself, attempting to intercept the Merciful Arrow of the World Venerate, which was already an act of disrespect."
"So, I deliberately left the wound unhealed, as a self-reminder and as a mark of respect to the World Venerate."
Zhang Fusheng sat down heavily on the wooden chair, and the young messenger took his leave with courtesy.
"Zhang Fusheng, at your service, Governor." He cupped his hands with composure.
"My surname is Su, and I am called Su Qiansuan."
The Golden Governor's smile was like the breeze of spring, as he gently waved his hand, revealing a chessboard on the stone table, along with two cups of warm tea.
