Chapter 362: The Truth of the Disappearance

The ancestral hall of the Jiang family was a place steeped in history and oppressive silence. The air was thick with the scent of aged sandalwood and the invisible weight of generations of power. Polished mahogany pillars, as thick as ancient trees, held up a ceiling carved with intricate dragons and phoenixes. Along the walls, stern-faced portraits of ancestors stared down, their painted eyes seeming to judge all who entered. At the head of the hall, seated in the ornate Master's chair, was...