Xuan Long sensed something behind him. The faint sound of vines snapping, the smell of blood spreading through the air. But he didn't turn back. His steps never stopped.
He only tightened his tail slightly around Hu Yan, keeping him steady, and carried Su Qinglan forward without saying a word.
He understood.
Some anger couldn't be stopped. Some hatred had to be released. He had realized she is special, and he would always stand by her in her thin and thick life.
Su Qinglan's body trembled a little. The rage that had burned in her eyes slowly began to fade. The exhaustion was pulling her down again. She leaned her head weakly against Xuan Long's shoulder.
Her lashes fluttered, and she closed her eyes.
She didn't want to see those ugly faces anymore. Didn't want to see their broken bodies or the blood that covered the ground.
Because she knew if she kept looking, she might lose all control and chop them into pieces herself.
Her breath came out slow and heavy.
