Elder Cang's heart was hammering against his ribs like a panicked drum.
He looked at the grand hall doors, then back at the innocent, peach-covered faces of the eight little cubs surrounding him.
Elder Cang definitely did not want to witness that bloody scene himself. But more importantly, he absolutely refused to let these soft, precious little cubs be traumatized by watching their fathers tear the palace apart!
Instantly, the old man put on the warmest, most gentle, grandfatherly smile he could muster. He bent down, clapping his hands together softly to get the attention of the whole furry crew.
"My dear little masters!" Elder Cang coaxed in a sweet, singsong voice, his eyes twinkling.
"Look at this golden peach! Do you know that in my back garden, there are trees filled with even bigger, sweeter, and juicier fruits than this? There are golden berries, sweet honey melons, and crystal plums! Do you all want to come with Grandpa to eat as much as you want?"
