"Hehe, Old Yao, your legs are quite nimble, huh?"
Down the mountain, Qi Yun looked at Yao Yuzhong, who appeared dejected and lifeless, speaking with a mocking tone.
Yao Yuzhong stood up, dusted off his hands, and finally stopped pretending, speaking bluntly: "I admit defeat, do with me as you wish."
Qi Yun stared at him for a while, then sat down on a rock, pulled out a cigarette box and lit one up: "Tell me, why did you ditch us and sneak off here on your own?"
Yao Yuzhong remained silent, seemingly ready to give up.
"What's wrong, don't feel like talking?"
Qi Yun chuckled softly, and slowly continued, "I'm not a very patient person, I fast-forward through movies, and what I hate most is mind games."
"So, you'd better not play tricks with me, or else you might not even have the chance to go back and do time."
By the end of that sentence, his voice had turned cold, with a tone full of menace.
