Han Xiangxun has roamed the jianghu for years and prided herself on having met all kinds of odd and unforgetta…
Han Xiangxun has roamed the jianghu for years and prided herself on having met all kinds of odd and unforgettable souls, but never has she seen someone traveling the world with a child in arms.
"Hey you! Living on the edge, risking your neck? Fine, that's your business. But what's with dragging a kid along? Some lover dumped the kid on you or something?"
"The kid's adopted."
"... Well. That's unexpectedly soft-hearted of you."
"No family, no home. It was pouring. What else was I supposed to do? Leave the kid there?"
Han Xiangxun didn't reply, but her eyes lingered on him. He didn't so much as pat the child's back, didn't offer a word of comfort. He didn't look like a father at all.
The sound of approaching enemies began to echo from down the path. After a brief pause, she clicked her tongue, muttered a curse, and hurled her cicada wing pendant toward him.
"Let's be clear. I'm doing this for the kid, not because I care if you make it out alive."
"Thank you," Jiang Wulang said, already turning to slash down an enemy emerging from the trees behind her. In one fluid motion, he wrapped the pendant around the child.