"Someone, there's a disturbance—"
He had just shouted halfway when his whole body flew backwards into the courtyard like a cannonball.
"It's been so long since anyone dared to shout in my presence." Zhao Douan slowly retracted his hand, almost nostalgic.
He stepped over the threshold, casually saying, "Follow."
Behind him, Zhao Shande and the four soldiers were too shocked to speak, only now realizing that this gentleman was indeed a martial artist.
However, the old official felt no joy, only sheer terror, as if his soul had flown away, realizing something was amiss:
The Lord Prefect could never have sent someone just to fight alongside him.
He must have been deceived?
But it was too late to reconsider; he gritted his teeth and followed anyway.
