Moonlight streamed through the hole in the roof of the abandoned temple, falling upon the woman's bloodstained clothes.
She leaned against the cold base of the Buddha statue. The agony of her wounds tugged at her brows with every breath, yet her gaze remained clear as it fixed directly upon the young man before her.
"What's your name?"
Her voice was somewhat faint from her disordered inner breath, but it still carried the authority of one long accustomed to standing above others.
Ye Qingxuan's bowing motion froze in place.
He raised his head and, for the first time at such close range, saw the appearance of this Chief Constable clearly.
The moonlight was like water, washing the dust and blood from her face and revealing features of peerless beauty. She looked to be no more than twenty-three or twenty-four, far younger than he had imagined. Yet this very woman was the Southern District Chief Constable, standing on equal footing with Deputy Commander Xiao Yunting.
The contrast made his heart jolt.
"This subordinate is Ye Qingxuan, a temporary constable serving in Southern District's Southern District Lane." He lowered his eyes and answered respectfully.
Mu Wanjun's gaze lingered on him for a moment, traveling from his ill-fitting short jacket to the comical alarm gong in his hand.
"You were the one who struck the gong, and you were also the one who imitated a retreat." She spoke in an even tone, revealing neither joy nor anger. "A temporary constable with this much nerve and adaptability—not bad."
"This subordinate merely wanted to stay alive." Ye Qingxuan's answer was honest to the point of seeming sly.
Before someone of her stature, all sweet talk and cunning words would only be superfluous.
Mu Wanjun said nothing more. She merely leaned against the base and regulated