At this moment, Tianshan Tonglao looked even younger than when he had last seen her. She was dainty and exquisite, like a lost child from some household.
"What are you to Lingjiu Palace?" Murong Fu walked up to the little girl and looked down at her.
"Yaa, yaa, yaa~" The little girl merely covered her face and cried, offering no reply to his question.
"Hm?" A trace of suspicion flashed through Murong Fu's heart. Why did this sound so much like a mute? But worried that she was pretending, he continued asking, "Don't be afraid, little sister. What is your name?"
The little girl lowered the hands covering her face, blinking her large eyes. A few tears still clung to her long lashes, making her utterly pitiable.
Yet she still did not answer. Wu Laoda grew anxious. They had braved tremendous danger, only to capture a useless piece of trash. It was truly humiliating. He rushed over and shouted, "Stop pretending to be mute!"
The response he received was still the little girl's "yaa, yaa, yaa."
Wu Laoda flew into a rage from shame. He strode forward, reached out with his pincer-like hand, seized the little girl by the shoulder, and squeezed hard, trying to force her to speak through pain.
Tears streamed down the little girl's face from the pain, but all that came from her mouth were still "yaa, yaa, yaa" sounds.
Song Qingshu could not help admiring Tianshan Tonglao's acting. She was clearly a fiery woman who brooked no opposition, yet she played the part of a weak little girl with such lifelike perfection. Still, she was probably suppressing boundless fury inside. Once her cultivation recovered, Wu Laoda would undoubtedly die a horrible death.
At that moment, Daoist Buping spoke up as well. "If she cannot speak,