"If I were you, I'd quietly enjoy the show instead of interrupting right now."
A teasing voice came from behind him.
A figure in green lay reclined against the corridor railing.
Light as a swallow, he balanced effortlessly on the wooden railing, barely as thick as an arm, looking utterly relaxed and languid.
He twirled a bamboo flute between his slender fingers. A willow tassel hung from its end, swaying aimlessly back and forth in the air.
Xiao Qinghe took a deep breath, recovered from his state of utter disbelief, and said gravely, "I've never wronged you. Why do you keep targeting me?"
Mo Yan didn't answer, merely studying the little porcelain bottle in his hand with interest. "You're so determined to go in now. Do you want to join them?"
What the actual fuck!
Xiao Qinghe went numb. "Why would I want to join their... brawl!"
"A brawl?" Mo Yan paused for two seconds, finding that description rather amusing.
With a push of his toes, he landed in front of Xiao Qinghe.
Very close.
He turned the bamboo flute and pressed it gently between Xiao Qinghe's brows.
The willow tassel brushed across Xiao Qinghe's nose.
It tickled faintly.
A faint glow seeped from the tassel.
Uncomfortable all over, Xiao Qinghe stepped back. "What are you doing?"
"I really can't see..." Mo Yan narrowed his green eyes, then suddenly gave a wicked smile. "Interesting!"
The Nightmare Clan, devourers of dreams, could peer into and control people's minds, succeeding every time.
Yet he couldn't read the dreams of the person before him.
Interesting.
Truly interesting!
"You really are different..." Mo Yan murmured, then suddenly shoved Xiao Qinghe against the wall.
One end of the bamboo flute tipped Xiao Qinghe's chin up.
Then it traveled down his neck, inch by inch.
With