When Ruan Qingyan went back to the little yard, it was still raining and began to dawn.

After a day and night ordeal, his face was now pale and his eyes were bloodshot even though he was in the prime of his life. But his eyes were still bright and gleaming. Flames burned in his eyes from the bottom.

He walked into the front hall as he untied his coir raincoat. Two guards behind him were dragging a man who was bleeding. He wasn't even wearing a coir raincoat. The ...