Yang Xianhui and her companions entered like an unstoppable force, clad in armor with a vigorous aura.
The armor on them was dazzling, yet it emitted a cold gleam, striking terror into the civil officials and family members present, who had never witnessed such might, causing their legs to tremble instantly.
Especially Miss Liu, who retreated behind her mother in fear, uttering a soft whimper with reddened eyes.
"Don't be afraid, Miss Liu!" Wen Xiuru stepped up, shielding her, his tall figure like a sturdy wall, ready to protect Miss Liu from the wind and rain.
Miss Liu also gazed at him with admiration, her eyes sparkling.
Wen Xiuru turned back to look at her, his smile gentle and soft.
Yang Xianhui's eyes stung, her breath caught fiercely.
This was the young man she had loved since childhood.
Now he scorned her for being vulgar, protecting another, so real.
