"Disgusting."
"I feel sick at the smell of blood, and you bloody drink it!"
"If someone's good-looking, it's called flirting; if they're ugly, it's called harassment."
"You're such a damn insult to me!"
A Ming took half a step back,
bent down,
lowered his arm,
full of etiquette,
and said:
"Farewell, my Third Master."
With that,
A Ming straightened up, turned around, and walked out.
Xue Three pointed at A Ming's back and said:
"I thought you'd vanish in a blood mist after finishing your act, but turns out you still have to use your legs."
A Ming waved a hand dismissively, ignoring Xue Three.
Xue Three slid sideways, disappearing into a shadow, advancing towards the camp ahead.
...
Inside the tent,
the Third Prince of the Naman Tribe was sitting in the tent, enjoying the fragrance of red sleeves, reading at night.
No special meaning,
because the Third Prince was indeed reading.
