"Lian Po, stop."
It wasn't a rebuke, nor a command. Just three simple words, spoken as calmly as if he were greeting an old friend.
But in the next moment, a miracle occurred.
Not even three seconds after Yang Qi spoke.
The tiger's claws, which had been frantically battering the bars, stopped.
The deafening, murderous roars ceased as well.
Lian Po panted heavily. The rage, killing intent, and agitation in his eyes receded like a tide, replaced by a look of confusion, then relaxation, and finally, a barely perceptible hint of guilt.
He retracted the claws resting on the bars and slowly lowered his massive body, abandoning any aggressive posture. He simply raised his head to look at Yang Qi, his tail drooping listlessly.
A deathly silence fell over the scene.
Everyone stared wide-eyed, their mouths agape, as if frozen in place, watching the fantastical scene unfold in utter disbelief.
