tw: mild eye gore and trauma
Lan Tian's eyebrows start an astounding climb up his forehead. "How did that woman get here?"
Lu Jiao throws her arms in the air, gets out of her tall-backed chair and kicks it out of the way, her mask of regal composure fraying at the edges. "Of course! Another one of your charming acquaintances!"
"If it's any consolation, neither of us wanted to see her here, either," Wu Yun says, waving between himself and Lan Tian who nods in confirmation.
"It's no consolation whatsoever."
Lu Jiao storms out of the Phoenix's Perch pavilion complex, her red robes billowing behind her like a warning flag, to match the fire burning in her crimson eyes.
Zhao Yi is standing in the middle of the landing platform, staring at Lu Jiao approach her through the wutong tree walkway.
Her eyes narrow as she takes the measure of Lu Jiao. She must find her wanting because her face splits in a wide grin.
