When Old Skin sensed the infant spirit, he knew something was wrong.
The infant spirit would by no means come back without his permission.
Unless it was threatened.
So his first reaction was to leave.
But he didn't expect that he wouldn't manage to escape.
Right now Ming Shu sat in his dormitory like a bandit and was—nibbling bread.
Old Skin: ??? Is there anything wrong with this person?
"Old Skin? Who gave you this name?"
Old Skin was tied up and couldn't move anything other than his head.
"Do you know who I am? I advise you to let me go." Old Skin's voice was rough and a little neutral, like those wicked old witches in fairy tales.
Ming Shu shook her legs and chuckled. "Do you know who I am?"
Old Skin: "…"
Of course he knew who she was.
Ming Shu said with a smile, "I'm going to have night snacks later, so let's just cut a long story short."
Old Skin: ???
What?
