“Woof, woof, woof!? Master, you okay?!” Her voice popped like pebbles striking water, bright and quick.
Hearing the clash of fists, Kaka darted from the Moon Post Bookstore like a sparrow startled, eyes skimming the street like ripples in wind.
“I’m fine, don’t worry!” Yue Liuyi waved from behind cover, a quiet reed in shadow, calling Kaka over with a gentle lift of her hand.
From the first shove, the blue-haired girl slipped to a safe nook like a moon behind cloud, watching the fight unfold like storm over reeds.
At first, she meant to help the Flame Ruins Gang, but as the tide rolled on, she chose not to step in, like a petal held back by frost.
Because this battle was crushing, a fire that laid dry brush flat, a storm that left no tree standing.
The two sides looked even, twenty or thirty on each, but the wasteland drifters were sand before a wave, idle and soft against hard stone.
Especially the man in the jacket: his moves were a forge’s breath, each step a rolling flame wave, a lion ripping through a swarm of rats.
“Haha! Weren’t you gonna teach me a lesson? Who else dares step up?” His laugh crackled like dry twigs, eyes sharp as flint.
He hurled the last stubborn drifter against the wall, a thud like a drum hit in fog, dust flurrying like moths.
“You… you… I’ll remember you! Luyao of the Flame Ruins Gang, right? Offend us wasteland drifters and you’ll choke on bitter fruit!” He spat the words like gravel, face tight as a knot.
“Oh?” The sound fell like a drop into a well, circles widening cold.
“W-what are you going to do?” His voice shrank like a candle flame before wind, feet edging like crabs.
“Brothers, this guy’s tired of living. Let’s set him in cement and sink him in a dry well.” The order rolled out like dark tide, heavy as chain.
“How can you do that? Don’t you fear life-for-life? The Lindream Council will arrest you!” His protest fluttered like a torn banner, thin against thunder.
“Oh? Now you remember the law? Too late.” His tone was winter on stone, a frost line drawn clean.
He emptied their sack of stolen lumber, wood clattering like bones, then grabbed the drifter’s collar and stuffed him in the bag like a snake swallowing prey.
“Ahh! Help! Call the police! Hurry!” His screams wriggled like eels in a bucket, sharp and sour.
“Shut up.” The words hit like a cold hammer, flat and final.
Thud. Luyao punched the sack; silence fell like snow, smothering every sound.
The other drifters stood stunned, geese in sudden fog, feet nailed like stakes, even flight forgotten.
“Calling won’t help. The Council’s edict has fallen like frost: the Lindream Council will protect newborn plants at any cost. Defy it and the lash will find you.” His voice carried like iron bells at dawn, stern as winter pine.
“We were wrong, sir, spare us!” They groveled like minnows on wet stone, foreheads to dust, hearts knocking like trapped birds.
“Ah-haha! You lot—clean up the mess. And you, kind little sister, are you unharmed?” He brushed his collar like ash off silk, turning to Yue Liuyi with lantern-soft eyes.
“Eh? You mean me?” Her surprise lifted like a finch from reeds, cheeks blooming faintly.
“Yeah, you. Winterwood District is dangerous; don’t come alone anymore. Is that your friend beside you? Head home together early.” His caution was a warm cloak, words drifting like mist.
“Uh, boss…” A Flame Ruins Gang kid hovered like a moth near flame, wanting to speak, the news a pebble stuck behind teeth.
“I told you to clear the field. Didn’t hear me?” His stare tightened like wire, cutting quick.
“Oh! Yes, sir! Right away!” He glanced at Yue Liuyi, then the boss; fear doubled like twin shadows, and he bolted like a hare.
With the nuisance gone, Luyao set courtesy like a cup on the table, asking softly, “Little sister, where do you live? If you’re scared, I can escort you home.”
“Um… no need! Thank you for driving off those greedy men.” Her head dipped like a willow leaf, fingers nestling like sparrows, unsure where to perch.
As a small girl, her thoughts fluttered like paper in breeze; she didn’t know what to say at all, heart tapping like rain.
If she were a boy, Dongfang Chen would’ve thanked him boldly, even invited him to the Moon Post Bookstore, hospitality poured like tea.
But as a girl… inviting a guy home felt strange, a blush spreading like dawn on snow, uncertainty budding like a shy flower.
She didn’t know her fluster lay open like dew on petal; Luyao caught every glimmer, eyes anchoring like stones in clear water.
Gazing at Yue Liuyi, he thought her a lotus in mud, clean and bright, untouched by stain, a bloom one longs to guard.
“Don’t worry, little sister. We of the Flame Ruins Gang just got a Council commission to help keep Winterwood District safe.” His assurance settled like a calm lake, steady and wide.
“Eh… commission? From the Council?” Her curiosity tilted like a young crane’s neck, voice light as rain.
“Mm. There’ll be saboteurs; not everyone loves plants the way you do, little sister.” His words were branches shading tender shoots, gentle yet firm.
The longer he looked, the more his heart sprouted like spring leaves; he wanted to reach out and pat her blue-haired head, a breeze touching water.
But—
“Woof! Yue Liuyi master, Kaka’s hungry and wants breakfast.” The golden-haired little girl beamed like sunshine through cloud, innocence ringing like a bell.
