The Voice in the Airport
The last man who dared to comnt on her like this was beaten by her and stayed in the hospital for three months before coming out.
That mory flashed through Yana’s mind like a spark.
After looking around and not finding the target, she was a bit frustrated, wondering if she had misheard.
The airport lounge humd with low conversation and distant boarding calls, yet for a mont everything around her seed strangely muted.
Only that mysterious voice lingered.
And those outrageous comnts about her muscles.
Her peach-colored lips tightened.
What exactly was going on?
"What’s wrong?"
Noticing the faint unease lingering on his daughter’s face, Wren Tyson asked softly.
His voice carried the steady warmth of a father who had long learned to read even the smallest shifts in her expression.
Yana turned at once, try to hiding the disturbance in her eyes far too quickly to him notice.
"Nothing."
Her answer ca almost too fast.
Wren raised a brow.
"Nothing?"
Yana avoided his gaze.
"...Nothing serious."
How could she possibly explain it?
Father, I can hear so unseen shaless man comnting on my body and martial path?
Worse—
Praising her hips.
Just thinking it made heat rise up her neck.
Absolutely impossible.
Seeing the strange stiffness in her posture, Wren did not press her. Instead, he reached out and gently patted her soft black hair.
His rough palm carried familiar comfort, grounding her.
"I know what you’re worried about," he said.
Yana blinked and looked up.
"You do?"
Wren gave a quiet chuckle.
"Don’t worry. That young man nad Lucas is indeed very skilled in dicine."
His gaze drifted down toward his motionless legs.
For a mont, silence settled.
Then his eyes brightened.
"After his treatnt... one of my toes can already move."
Yana’s expression shifted at once.
"Really?"
Wren nodded.
"I felt it myself."
His voice carried restrained excitent, the kind a man used to disappointnt barely dared show.
"It won’t be long before I can stand again..."
He looked at her, smile deepening.
"And then we can spar like we used to."
A faint smile touched Yana’s face.
"How long has it been since you last said that..."
Years ago, before his injury, father and daughter would exchange moves at dawn.
Wooden staves clashing.
Feet skimming over dew-soaked grass.
Her small figure once circling around him.
His laughter after knocking her down.
Those mories still lived in her bones.
Wren seed to sink into them as well.
"You used to cry every ti I disard you."
Yana frowned at once.
"I did not."
"You did."
"I was seven."
"And fierce even then."
That earned a soft huff from her.
For a mont, the heaviness between them eased.
Wren Tyson had already resigned himself to a crippled life.
Accepted it.
Buried every expectation.
Until Lucas appeared.
After an unknown Acupuncture Therapy, he could feel pain in his legs again.
Even a toe could move.
Hope had returned.
And with it—
Gratitude.
"Dad..."
Yana’s voice softened.
"I believe in Brother Lucas’s dical skills. He’s truly amazing."
Undisguised admiration stirred in her bright orange eyes.
"He’s only a few years older than , yet his cultivation and dical arts..."
She exhaled slowly, almost in disbelief.
"Far beyond ordinary geniuses."
Wren studied her expression and smiled faintly.
"You admire him."
Yana paused.
Then answered honestly.
"I admire the strength."
A beat later, she added quietly,
"And I sincerely recognize strength."
Nearby, Julian D’Aurelius, drinking water, almost choked.
Cough.
He lowered the bottle slowly.
Because he instantly recalled the original plot.
In the original story, it should have been Evan who treated Wren Tyson.
To conquer Valemont, Evan needed the four great families for comrce...
And the Old Martial Arts forces for power.
The Tyson Family was the bridgehead.
The cornerstone.
And now Lucas had stolen that thread.
Julian’s expression turned strange.
Then inwardly—
( Ha, Lucas’s dical skills are indeed impressive, even curing paralysis. )
Yana stiffened.
There it was again.
That voice.
Julian continued, completely unaware.
( But curing it cos at the cost of life. )
Yana’s fingers tightened faintly on the armrest and her Yana’s
gaze sharpened.
( His thod deliberately overdrawing life force ans after treatnt... he won’t live more than a year. )
Silence.
A cold silence.
Yana’s heartbeat slamd once.
Her father... dead in a year?
Upon hearing Julian’s inner thoughts again, Yana’s gaze finally locked onto Julian.
Because the person beside him had already left.
Within ten ters, there was no one else.
Only him.
She could hear this guy’s inner voice.
Actually hear it.
Her breath caught.
Julian felt it.
That stare.
He looked up.
And nearly forgot to blink.
Yana was staring straight at him.
Intensely.
Dangerously.
Her orange eyes were bright like embers under autumn dusk.
And for the first ti he noticed—
she was... very beautiful.
Not Bianca’s seductive softness.
Not Selene’s elegant grace.
But a fierce vivid beauty.
Alive.
His heartbeat skipped.
( Damn... when she stares like that she’s kind of wild girl and beautiful at once. )
Yana’s ear twitched.
Her face darkened.
Again.
Him.
Julian, anwhile:
( Why does she look like she wants to beat and marry at the sa ti? )
Yana almost jerked upright.
Beat him—yes.
Marry him—what nonsense!
Her fingers curled.
She stared harder.
Julian’s handso black-haired profile suddenly seed annoyingly composed.
And annoyingly attractive.
Which irritated her more.
( Her boobs may not be Amara-level but that athletic figure... dangerous. )
Her murderous stare sharpened enough to cut paper.
Julian inwardly recoiled.
( Why is this silly girl staring at ? )
Her jaw tightened.
( Is she ogling with her eyes? )
A vein almost appeared at her temple.
( Geez, can’t these won have so self-respect? It’s my first day of abstinence. )
Julian chuckled inwardly.
"..."
Yana almost couldn’t resist punching him.
Her palm even twitched.
One strike.
Just one.
And his pretty face would learn humility.
But compared to Julian’s frivolous thoughts, she was more concerned about what he had just said.
How did he know about Lucas’s situation?
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