The gentle breeze still brushed lightly, strands of hair caressed Mu Lin's cheeks, his icy eyes fixed on Jing Chen. Their eyes met, and the corners of his mouth lifted into an unusually... sinister smile.
"Qiaozi!" Mu Lin's voice rang in Qiaozi's ears. With that, Qiaozi sprang to full attention. "Go on," Mu Lin commanded once more.
No sooner had he finished speaking than a small black porcelain bottle flew from Mu Lin's hand, vanishing soundlessly among the leaves amidst the mayhem. It landed precisely at Qiaozi's feet.
"Qiaozi, just do the usual," Youyou's voice once again entered Qiaozi's ears. Everybody listened in confusion, but Qiaozi understood perfectly.
This was their tacit understanding; in Qiaozi's mind, the bond between Mu Lin and him was stronger than anything even Jing Chen could comprehend.
