“Break whichever bones are closest to the table, Xiao’er,” Gu Changsheng called back over his shoulder without turning around.
“Just make sure they land outside the picket fence. Grandpa Fu swept the porch flagstones twice this morning.”
“Understood, Dad,” sixteen-year-old Ye Xiao replied crisply. “I will keep the trajectory clean.”
Above the courtyard roof, the four charging Rank 8 Early Galactic Envoys—led by young Envoy Gu Lin from the second chariot—heard every word of the father-and-son exchange.
Gu Lin’s eyes turned bloodshot with humiliation.
First their thousand-year ledger had been broadcast across the sector, and then their sacred ancestral decree had been snapped into hotpot charcoal. Now a sixteen-year-old brat in round glasses was asking his father which of their bones to break!
“Courting death, you arrogant country whelps!” Envoy Gu Lin roared in mid-air.
“Four Rank 8 Early immortals of the Main Clan are diving at your heads, and you think a pair of children can block us?! Form the net!”
