Lu Jingzhi, light-footed, moved silently behind the intruder like a cat.
At that time, the man was peeking into the kitchen.
He rubbed his hands together, took a couple of steps inside.
The night seemed colder than usual.
His gaze darted about the clean kitchen until he finally found what he was looking for. He chuckled silently and covered his mouth. Yet before he could take a couple of steps, a sudden, thunderous pain struck the back of his head.
The pain—
Was excruciating—
Before he could react, he let out a strange yelp and collapsed face first.
Lu Jingzhi tossed aside the wooden stick, stained with the blood from the back of Qian Zhenzhu's head, and stepped across the threshold. She peered down at the man and clicked her tongue lightly, "You came for the jam, I reckon."
Noticing that she was being watched, Lu Jingzhi swept a glance at a young boy dressed in ill-fitting coarse robes, bathed in moonlight, clinging to the door frame with a look of shock.
