Movement came from beyond the screen doors.
"Oh, it is you!" exclaimed Shufeng. "I have been gasping for a drink of tea."
Without waiting to be prompted, Jian kneeled down on the floor cushion between Shufeng and Li Ji. While she quickly moved around some papers and bamboo slips to make room for the tea tray, her attention shifted to Jian's tetchy face. Also, the muscles in his shoulders seemed all stretched taut as he put down the tea tray on the breakfast table.
"What kind of expression is that?" Li Ji enquired.
"I have a horrible feeling in my stomach." Jian replied while he poured hot tea into an earthenware cup.
Someone like Jian had a few undeniable traits: Clear as ice and clean as jade*, being able to run fast and fly across the rooftops, and possessing the gift of an unerring instinct. And so, if his gut told him that something was taking on a threatening shape, his companions took it as a holy word.
