Only the clan name was given, no surname.
Li Zhuiyuan wanted him to understand: members of the Qin family had come.
A reckoning from one generation would be demanded by the next.
When the final confirmation landed, Zhou Yunfan’s eyes revealed a deep, bitter hatred.
Chen Xiyuan looked puzzled. Wasn’t the one who’d orchestrated and set up the ambush against the Qin family’s walker—wasn’t that man the father of the person above?
“Then what is he even resenting?” she asked.
Chen Xiyuan had recently experienced something similar in the Ancient Tomb Museum. That day the other side had overwhelming numbers; she’d only escaped with Runsheng’s help and never really had the chance to kill anyone. If she had actually killed someone, and years later that person’s offspring suddenly appeared in front of her and glared with hatred, accusing, “It’s because you killed my father (mother) that I’ve suffered— I hate you!”—she would have laughed at the absurdity.
“Heh, what sort of person is this,” she muttered.
Li Zhuiyuan answered softly, “A filial person.”
Chen Xiyuan blinked, then clapped her hand over her mouth and nodded with a smile. “Right. That fits.”
Li Zhuiyuan raised his head to look at Zhou Yunfan and asked plainly, “Your father… is he well?”