Xi Ming tightened the basket around his back, securing it in place as he prepared to leave for the forest to gather herbs.
Qing Yu staggered toward Xi Ming, his eyes groggy and bloodshot from the hangover caused by his incessant drinking the previous night. "Where is the money?" Qing Yu demanded, his voice rough.
Xi Ming trembled, managing to reply, "I-I don't have any left. You took all I had last night."
Qing Yu's eyes flashed with anger. "You little bastard, are you talking back to me?!"
Qing Yu raised his hand, ready to slap Xi Ming across the face.
Knock, knock.
Qing Yu paused, his hand mid-air, and looked toward the door, a hint of annoyance on his face.
Who could that be? He wasn't expecting anyone.
Grunting, Qing Yu dropped his hand, walked to the door, and yanked it open.
