"Sister!"

With that cry, a young man’s figure arrived like the wind.

"I found it!"

The shout shattered the silence of the long street, and countless pairs of eyes turned in unison toward the young man.

Han Tong turned his head. The moment he saw Ye Yunfeng appear with a box in his arms, his eyelid twitched violently.

He wanted to shout, to stop him, but all he could taste was the faint, metallic tang of blood.

Han Yao, however, had completely lost his mind. He stared at the box as if it were his last lifeline.

"Shen Yanchuan!"

He roared,

"The item is here! Don’t you forget what you just promised me!"

In truth, he didn’t trust Shen Yanchuan. After all, he’d had little contact with him in the past. His only impression was that this Young Master Heir, who was perennially away from the capital, was inscrutable.

But now, with everyone watching, he was certain Shen Yanchuan wouldn’t dare break his promise.

Shen Yanchuan’s gaze swept coolly over the box, betraying no emotion.

He then stepped forward, as if to open the box.

But the moment his fingers touched the edge of the box, he froze.

Seeing the broken lock, he raised an eyebrow slightly and gave Ye Yunfeng a subtle glance.

A few specks of mud still clung to the hem of the young man’s robes, proof that he was the one who had found and brought back the box.

Seeing him hesitate, Han Yao grew anxious.

"What, you don’t trust me!?"

’This was their only chance to turn the tables—’

Shen Yanchuan suddenly turned and asked, "Is this all there is?"

Han Yao froze, then realized the question wasn’t for him, but for his father.

But Han Tong was completely speechless. How could he possibly answer?

Blood rushed to his head, his thoughts a tangled mess. The veins on his forehead throbbed violently.

’Shen Yanchuan is doing this on purpose! He’s using this as an opportunity to dig up more evidence!’

Seeing that Han Tong remained silent, Han Yao grew both angry and desperate.

"Father!?"

’From the look on Shen Yanchuan’s face, he’s certain there’s more. Is Father still hiding things from me?’

He finally couldn’t hold back any longer. Taking a step forward, he screamed hoarsely,

"Father! What are you hesitating for! All we have to do is—"

SWISH—!

A piercing whistle suddenly split the air!

A frigid gust of wind struck him. Alarmed, Han Yao instinctively tried to dodge!

But it was too late.

He only had time to glimpse a fleeting shadow, and before he could even make out what it was, he felt a sudden coldness in his hand.

CLANG!

The dagger fell with a sharp clang.

A searing pain shot through him. Han Yao looked down in shock to see that his dagger hand had been pierced clean through by an arrow!

A large flap of skin and flesh on the back of his hand was torn away, revealing the stark white bone beneath. Blood streamed from the wound.

In a single instant, during his moment of crazed distraction, an arrow had flown out and crippled his hand!

Han Yao’s mind went blank. Sensing that things had gone wrong, he subconsciously reached with his other hand to choke Ye Chutang!

"Shen Yanchuan! How dare you—"

His voice was hoarse, filled with surging shock and fury.

But before he could finish, his eyes met a pair of deep, ice-cold black pupils.

An indescribable terror crawled up his spine from the soles of his feet.

He was about to make his move, but his entire body suddenly went numb. Even the slightest movement became a struggle.

’Oh no! The arrow was poisoned!’

Han Yao opened his mouth to speak, but instead violently spat out a mouthful of black blood. His hand went limp, and with a THUD, he collapsed to his knees.

A dark stain rapidly spread across the ground.

Ye Chutang stumbled back a few steps and took a deep breath. A few startling dots of blood stood out against her fair, slender neck.

She began to cough violently.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a well-defined hand extend a Snow Cloth toward her.