Yan Xuesong was dumbfounded.
His gaze was fixed on the pot of Old Golden Osmanthus in the room, scrutinizing it thoroughly, missing no detail of any branch, and staring at it for nearly ten minutes. Finally, he was convinced that this Old Golden Osmanthus was indeed the sick plant that Zhao Guotian moved out of Guose Tianxiang in July.
However, this discovery did not bring any delight to Yan Xuesong; instead, his eyes grew even deeper and more contemplative.
If he remembered correctly, back then, this Old Golden Osmanthus was showing signs of death; many branches had already withered. More importantly, after experiencing both drought and flood, the roots were completely rotten.
Such a Golden Osmanthus could definitely be considered at death's door, at least to the point where he had no way of rescuing it, which was why he had told Zhao Guotian he was powerless and directly sentenced this Old Golden Osmanthus to death.
