“Throw Grandpa Mu and my family into the lion pit?”
Standing in front of the white picket fence of the [Gu Family Flying Courtyard] with his iron wok spatula resting lightly on his shoulder, Gu Changsheng didn’t even raise his voice—he simply gestured toward the porch behind him. “Auntie Qin, Grandpa Yao, help the old gentleman up and put some cooling lotus salve on his hands. Nian’er, go stand by the barn door so nobody bothers the little ones inside.”
“Yes, Dad!” Twelve-year-old Gu Nian blurred across the clover meadow in a flash of golden-black light. Landing silently in front of the wooden hay-barn door with his wooden practice sword held at his side, giving fourteen-year-old Mu Ling and the baby cloud-bear in her arms a reassuring nod.
Meanwhile, Auntie Qin and seventy-year-old Grandpa Yao hurried out of the courtyard gate carrying a padded rattan armchair, a basin of warm herbal water, and a jar of emerald healing ointment. Within seconds, seventy-five-year-old Grandpa Mu was seated comfortably in the rattan chair with a cup of hot honey-ginseng tea in his hands, staring in dazed wonder. Meanwhile, His bleeding fingers healed without a scar.
“You... you dare ignore an enforcement warrant signed by Grandmaster Mo Fan?!”
