Gazing at Liu Yanchang, protected by the Treasure Vase of the Great Dao, Yang Jian's eyes flashed a hint of disgust and he murmured softly, "Lu Yu, don't stop me, let me kill this bastard who has destroyed one's innocence."
Yet Lu Yu responded with a light chuckle, "True Monarch, it seems you wish to make this child an orphan at such a young age and let him experience the pain you once endured?"
These words rendered Yang Jian silent, as long-forgotten memories sealed deep within his heart unwittingly surfaced.
The face of his father seemed to traverse the distance of time, reappearing before him, a troubled yet kindly love spread across his weary face.
Even after so many years, the mountain-like love of his father still brought warmth to him, always shielding him behind his slender figure during those arduous years. When the Heavenly Soldiers descended from the sky, his father charged forward resolutely, merely to carve out a path of survival for him and his sister.
