Just as Lin Jin was about to attack, a familiar voice rang out from inside the Su Clan's defensive barrier.
"Lin Jin!"
The voice was choked with tears, filled with longing that had been suppressed for far too long.
Lin Jin stopped and turned toward the voice.
Su Qianxue was running out of the Main Hall. She was still wearing that dazzlingly white wedding dress, its skirt trailing along the ground and catching on the steps several times as she stumbled toward the gate.
Her father, Su Qishan, followed behind her. He had heard everything Lin Jin said, and his face now held both worry for his daughter and relief that she had chosen the right man.
Not far behind her, Su Zhenchuan was hurrying over from the Ancestral Hall, his expression utterly conflicted.
Just moments earlier, he had seen his father, Su Boyong, fall gravely wounded, and the Defensive Formation on the verge of collapse. In desperation, he had rushed to the secluded courtyard on the rear mountain and asked Su Qianxue and her father to come out.
His original intention had been to have Su Qianxue put the clan first and persuade Lin Jin to withdraw instead of continuing this disturbance.
But when he saw Su Qianxue rushing recklessly toward the gate, he realized that this move might have been a mistake.
Su Qianxue ran up to the defensive barrier and pressed both hands against its pale golden surface. Through that layer of light with runes flowing across it, she finally saw Lin Jin.
He stood high in the air, his entire body bearing traces of battle. His clothes were stained with blood-she did not know whether it belonged to his enemies or to him-and his right hand was still poised to attack. But those unfamiliar purple eyes