The disciple spoke with fear and trepidation, "That person said... said that if you, Tower Master, do not wish for your son to come to harm, you must go to the time and place agreed upon in the letter for a battle..."
"Where is Eighteen? Call Eighteen here for me!"
A sense of unease began to rise in Wen Xiangxin's heart. He turned around and spoke loudly to the trusted disciple beside him.
That trusted disciple did not dare to delay, left as if flying, and approximately a dozen minutes later, he returned to Wen Xiangxin's side with a face full of panic, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and said with a trembling voice, "Tower Master, the young master... he is not in his room..."
"Did you look for him elsewhere?"
Wen Xiangxin's sense of unease grew stronger and stronger.
"We have sent people to look for him. However... there are words written in red paint on the wall of the young master's room..."
"What does it say?"
"It says 'Borrowing your son for a bit'!"
