Jian watched the man step back, but he didn't turn to leave. That alone made his grip tighten on the sword. His body tensed.
He stayed alert, ready for anything.
In the bright moonlight, he could make out that face clearly. The man's silver white hair shimmered ever so softly and his cold grey eyes glanced his way intently.
His features were too striking for him to ever forget it.
It was the same face from a while ago—the man he'd met at the construction site.
Back then, he had been just a anxious, love hungry boy, craving warmth from anyone. The man had seemed kind. He'd offered Jian food, smiled at him, even taken him out to play at the arcade. At the time, Jian had followed behind him like a stray animal latching onto the first bit of warmth. He hadn't known better.
But now, he did.
He wasn't a naive child anymore. He had learned that nothing good came without a price
Anything that looked that beautiful was always hiding something dangerous.
