But before Ye Wudao could finish speaking, Guan Yu interrupted him. Standing up, he said to Ye Wudao, word by word, "I understand what you mean, but I trust my son more—he would never commit murder."
"Mr. Guan, there's no need to get worked up. I'm not saying I don't believe you. I'm not a judge, and I don't care whether your son committed murder or not. However, there's one thing I don't understand. With Mr. Guan's wealth, it should be quite easy for you to get your son out of there, right? Why would you need to ask for help from outsiders?"
Guan Yu's expression went through a series of changes, from ferocious to angry, and after a while, he finally said to Ye Wudao, "Because someone wants my son dead, no matter what method I use, it's useless."
Ye Wudao nodded. If Guan Yu was so certain his son hadn't killed anybody, then this was the only reasonable explanation. Someone like Guan Yu, if he had lived a life without making a few enemies, no one would believe it.
