"Fath—er—"
Beneath the tree, although Yuwen Zheng wasn't tied up, he was clearly limp and dejected. His eyes had lost the spirit befitting a Quasi-Martial Champion Scholar.
However, upon spotting Yuwen Boxi in the distance, Yuwen Zheng's spirits instantly lifted, and he let out a cry that was both joyful and indignant.
Yuwen Boxi could be indifferent to anyone else, but this son was his absolute weak spot.
After all, even if he were to father a hundred more sons, it was unlikely another one would become a Martial Champion Scholar.
As for Yuwen Shuo, who was long dead?
Honestly, while Yuwen Boxi was furious, his quest for revenge—settling scores with the Jianghu influences in Yuan Guang County—was more about saving face.
A gang from a small county town dared to make a move against his, Yuwen Boxi's, son. How was that any different from spitting in his face?
