Under a moonless sky, a night for murder; in high winds, a day to set the world ablaze.
In the pitch-black forest outside the inner enclosure of the Ise Grand Shrine, Ye Wutian lay in quiet ambush.
As dusk fell, he had already concealed himself here, and by now, he had been lying in wait for three full hours.
Since the evening, when all the tourists and shrine priests on duty had left, no one else had come by. The shrine seemed as if it had fallen into a slumber, devoid of any noise or movement.
Although it seemed as if there was not a soul left in the shrine, Ye Wutian did not believe it was unguarded.
He did not rush into action, not because he feared those so-called shrine priests but because the solemn atmosphere emanating from the shrine made him very uneasy. He felt that the shrine was not as simple as it appeared on the surface.
After observing quietly for another half an hour, Ye Wutian's patience had almost run out. He finally decided to make his move.
