When Wan Qu and his wife, Qian Ye, heard the child's voice, they both paused, then raised their heads.
The little boy's face before them gradually overlapped with the face in the painting they held.
They thought they were hallucinating, but when they saw the red ribbon around Zi Xing's wrist, their bodies could not help trembling.
"You... you are..."
Qian Ye sat up and reached toward Zi Xing, her icy face twitching uncontrollably.
She still could not believe her eyes.
"Which house are you from, child? Leave, quickly. Don't stay with us."
Wan Qu's voice was cold and stern.
Any Death Warrior who was even slightly friendly with them would be targeted by Ci Mang.
That was why, over all these years, the couple had never deliberately sought contact with anyone.
With that, he reached out and pulled the red ribbon off Zi Xing's wrist. "This isn't something you should wear!"
Zi Xing's eyes reddened. Some emotion seemed to lodge in his throat. He opened his mouth, but could not call out a single word.
He wanted to say that he was their child.
But how could they believe that a nine-year-old child could enter these mountains and sneak into the Death Warrior Tribe to see them?
Danger lurked everywhere here. Even an unfamiliar bird could not fly in.
"I... am from the house... to the east. Before you leave, could you give me those red ribbons? I like red."
Liu Zi Xing pointed at the red ribbons around their wrists.
His voice was hoarse and choked. He had almost-almost-lost control of his emotions.
Wan Qu and Qian Ye exchanged a glance, each seeing profound shock in the other's eyes.
The defenses holding back emotions they had not felt in years crumbled in an instant, and they fought desperately