He bowed until his forehead touched the ground, stood up, and turned to face the heavy-armored warrior at the door.

The heavy-armored man was like a mountain. Chang Geng was but a child of flesh and blood. Standing among these men, he appeared like an ant that was about to go head to head with a large ancient tree*. It seemed that he should be afraid, but he was not.

*Based on the idiom 蚍蜉撼大树 pí fú hàn dà shù, lit. an ant trying to shake a big tree

Chang Geng was not so arrogant that he thought he could stand a chance against these mountains. He was also aware that there was no way he could run from them, yet, strangely, he felt no fear.

Perhaps his fear had all disappeared the moment he learned that there was another identity to "Shen Shiliu."

Scarred Man looked at him — no one could tell what he was thinking of when suddenly, his face was filled with anger: "Where is Hu Ge Er?"

Chang Geng's gaze stayed on his face for a moment and then said, "I remember you, you were the man who led a pack of wolves to attack me in the winter snowstorm that year."

A barbarian in Heavy Armor stepped forward, attempting to grab Chang Geng, when the Scarred Man raised his hand to stop him.

Scarred Man tilted his head down slightly, clumsily bending his back to stare at the boy that didn't even reach his armored chest, and asked again in an accented Chinese dialect: "I am asking you, Hu Ge Er, Xu...Xiu Niang, where is she?"

Chang Geng: "Already dead."

He held onto the iron wristband then stepped out of the way, revealing the lifeless body lying on the bed. There was a trace of black blood on Xiu Niang's lips. Her face was pale white, like a poisonous flower that had withered.

The barbarians in the yard all kneeled down, crying out and screaming in sorrow.

Scarred Man seemed stunned for a moment. Then he slowly lifted his foot and stepped into Xiu Niang's room. Although the action seemed cautious, the Heavy Armor he wore still left a deep imprint in the ground that he walked on.

The barbarian went to the window and reached out to lean on the carved wooden bed. He retracted his hand halfway, as if he was afraid that his strength could crush the bedpost.

He bent his waist that was covered in Heavy Armor, the white steam spreading behind him in the small bedroom. The Ziliujin inside the armor continued to burn, creating a sound resembling that of a dying beast.

The beast caressed the woman's face.

It was ice cold.