Li Xianyun nestled in Yelu Yan's broad embrace, looking up at him and gently shook her head, "It's nothing."
Yelu Yan gazed unblinkingly into Li Xianyun's autumnal eyes, "With your husband here, don't be afraid, okay?"
"Okay. I'm not scared with you here."
Li Xianyun said, carefully examining Yelu Yan's left upper arm, "Husband, has your wound split open again?"
He had just been holding her tightly in his left arm, protecting her with such strength, it must have come apart at the injury.
"It's nothing serious, don't worry."
Li Xianyun looked toward the combatants, the assassins were clearly no match for Jinwu and the host of guards; many were quickly killed, and the rest fled.
The elegant room, once filled with poetry and painting, instantly became thick with the nauseating scent of fresh blood.
After repelling the assassins, Yelu Yan had Jinwu compensate the tavern for its losses, and the group left the place.
