A sudden, sharp gasp erupted from one of the figures—it was unmistakably Liang Zixuan, her breath hitching in a mix of surprise and fear. Jiao Liangchen's eyes widened, a flicker of shock passing through them that he struggled to mask. Beside him, Lan Qisheng stood frozen, his body tense as he instinctively tightened his grip around the handle of his weapon. His heart raced violently within his chest, a wild thrum of dread for his reckless lover, leaving him utterly bewildered by Sian's unpredictable maneuver.
But Sian paid no mind to their stares, nor to their fear. His entire focus was fixed on the child's mouth, observing every twitch, every tiny movement.
He felt it—that resistance.
For a fleeting moment, it felt as though the child was resisting his outstretched hand, not with teeth bared in defiance, but with a profound, almost primal energy—a raw inner force stirring beneath the surface, eager to awaken and break free.
