The city tower lay in shambles, every trace of festive cheer washed away by blood and killing intent.
Guan Pingchao stepped forward, blocking Han Zhan just as he was about to leap from the battlements. "Your Majesty's person is beyond price, and your shoulder wound has yet to stabilize. How could you risk yourself? Our immediate priority is to reassure the frightened envoys and keep the situation under control."
As he spoke, he examined the wound on Han Zhan's shoulder. His fingertips brushed lightly over it, glowing with a gentle, earthy-yellow light, and the bleeding from the flesh torn by sword qi immediately slowed.
"Bah! Quit fussing!"
Han Zhan impatiently waved his large hand, still smeared with his own blood. The motion was fierce, and a surge of icy energy rose.
His thick brows knotted as he glared in the direction He An had fled. His booming voice held a simmering fury. "What did I tell you... We shouldn't have let that little bastard slip away last time. Raising a tiger... raising a damned tiger to bring disaster on ourselves! If you'd listened to me and chopped him up when we caught him, would any of this have happened today?"
He paused, a shrewdness at odds with his rough exterior flashing in his eyes. Lowering his voice, he chuckled. "Lucky Chan'er didn't come, too... If she'd seen the brat, with that stubborn streak of hers, killing him would've taken some doing..."
Guan Pingchao's expression remained unchanged, his gaze steady as he replied, "Your Majesty is entirely correct! All four gates of Wuwei City are now shut, our elite troops have mobilized, and Master Qu is tracking and restraining him with his spells. The boy is a turtle trapped in a jar. He cannot escape again."
"Tss..."
Han Zhan rubbed his