For a brief moment after Madam Cold Fang spoke those words, Han Yu found that he could not even form a reply.
It was not fear that froze him, nor anger, nor even shock alone, but rather the sharp realization that all the layers he had so carefully built had been peeled away by nothing more than observation, experience, and a mind that clearly worked in patterns far deeper than he had expected.
He had hidden his Blood Qi.
He had suppressed his aura.
He had altered his habits, his posture, even the way he spoke.
And yet she had still seen through him, not by force, not by probing with spirit sense, but by simply watching how he moved, how he fought, how he restrained himself, and how his power expressed itself even when hidden.
For a few breaths, he simply stared at her.
Then, slowly, he let go.
The calm, casual expression of Chen Xiu faded from his face as if it had never been there.
