The door burst open with enough force to rattle the furs hanging from the ceiling. Zhǐ Ruò flinched, her hand still clutching the empty soup bowl like a lifeline.
Zhāo Yàn stood in the doorway, his nine crimson tails fanned out behind him like a living tapestry. His eyes swept the room, landing first on Cāng Jì's lounging form, then on Zhǐ Ruò's trembling figure, and his lips curved into something that was definitely not a smile.
"Well, well," he drawled, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "I see you've found the newest addition to our little menagerie. How... predictable."
Cāng Jì's golden eyes narrowed. "What do you want, fox?"
"Nothing." Zhāo Yàn circled the room slowly, his tails swaying with each step. "I merely came to inform you that your father has absconded with the children. He's taken them for a ride. Something about 'teaching them the proper way to terrorize lowland villages.' His words, not mine."
Cāng Jì's composure cracked. "He's what?!"
