Just as the stone was about to hit Zheng Fan's forehead, a low shout came:
"Mo Wan! Are you trying to get us all killed?"
WHIZZ!
The stone began to slow, finally halting right before Zheng Fan's forehead. Perhaps due to the abrupt deceleration, a faint scorching smell lingered in the air, even singeing and curling the fringe of Zheng Fan's hair.
Lying on the ground, Zuo Jiqian heard the voice behind him and instinctively tried to turn his head.
BANG!
A Ming kicked him in the head.
Already injured, Zuo Jiqian was directly kicked unconscious.
"He's your father!" A Ming shouted, clutching his left hand.
His left hand had turned a bluish-purple; he was clearly concentrating the poison from the earlier needle attack there, suppressing its spread.
Just then, a somewhat young and tender child's voice echoed from within the stone:
"I was just following orders."
"Orders? Whose orders?" A Ming asked.
"My... father's."
