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"Those who step out of this door will die."
In Lihua Hall, Zhao Douan's voice was not loud.
But because the room was so quiet that a pin drop could be heard, it was clearly delivered into everyone's ears.
His expression remained unchanged, his sitting posture unaltered, as if the sudden flying dagger and the explosion earlier had nothing to do with him.
In the courtyard, the lush pear tree swayed in the wind, making a rustling sound.
A gentle breeze brushed against Li Lang, and beads of cold sweat seeped out, chilling his spine.
It felt as if he was standing before the gates of hell, where one wrong move would lead to eternal damnation.
"You..." The spoiled young master swallowed hard, his body about to lean forward.
He only felt the blade against his brow sink in a little deeper, quickly retracting his leg, yet stood motionless, afraid to make any reckless move.
"Ah—"
