Butler Zhang's motorcade and Shao Jinyang's convoy met at the foot of the mountain.
Both sides stopped their vehicles.
"Mr. Zhang, how is Xiaomu?"
Shao Jinyang looked with concern at He Beimu, who was lying in the backseat of the car.
Seeing the wounded state of He Beimu, Shao Jinyang couldn't help but frown.
"His injuries are quite severe, but fortunately, they are all external. There's no immediate danger to his life," Butler Zhang explained.
"As long as he's still alive, that's good. Who could it be, with what deep hatred, to torture a person like this?"
He Beimu was covered with wounds from head to toe; even if they weren't fatal, they were enough to torment anyone.
"I can't think of anyone at the moment," Butler Zhang replied.
If it were an old enemy wanting to eradicate him completely, He Beimu would have been a cold corpse by now.
Shao Jinyang immediately asked, "Mr. Zhang, did you manage to get any clues during your confrontation with the adversary?"