A cold killing intent fell, undisguised, upon Xu An's mother's frail body.
The air in the little courtyard went deathly still.
Xu An stiffened. His scalp prickled, and a bone-deep chill shot from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.
The thing he feared most, the thing he had never dared imagine, had finally come.
Zhao Baichuan had run out of patience. No longer willing to keep up the pretense with him, he meant to attack Xu An's elderly, frail mother to force a confession!
"Don't!!"
Xu An's eyes went bloodred. He thrust himself in front of his mother, shielding her with his body. His back stayed straight even as he trembled, and he strained to block that icy gaze. His voice came out hoarse and raw, full of desperate pleading and fury.
"Zhao Baichuan! Come at me!"
"My mother is old and frail! She's never cultivated, and she's never harmed anyone!"
"Kill me or carve me up however you like, but don't lay a finger on her!"
"I really don't know where Li Yun is!"
"He left without warning back then and vanished without a word. He never left us any message. Even if you torture us both to death, we'll have nothing to tell you!"
At that moment, Xu An hated his own helplessness, but despair filled him.
His cultivation was weak. He had neither power nor standing. Faced with the Old City Lord, who could blot out the sky with one hand, he could not even protect the person dearest to him. All he could do was watch disaster descend.
Zhao Baichuan looked down coldly at the panicked, helpless Xu An. His face showed no trace of sympathy, only utter indifference and greed.
"Come at you?"
He gave a faint, scornful laugh, his