"I do not understand your words, Qi Jun," she said. "The General has been very kind to me."
Feng Yun's almond eyes narrowed slightly, losing the sharpness in her gaze and appearing somewhat bewildered. She was, after all, only seventeen, looking innocent at a glance. With but a gesture, one couldn't tell that beneath her exterior lay a concealed blade, a complex soul.
Xiao Cheng's face turned even uglier.
Chunyu Yan, on the other hand, appeared quite amused, "Brother Zicheng, please, take a seat and we can talk."
His smile was full of teasing, and he turned back to whisper an order to Sang Jiao.
"Why not show Qi Jun to his seat and serve tea?"
The guest had been here quite a while now, standing and talking for so long – was it only now that the host remembered to attend to him?
Feng Yun glanced at him.