Fu Muhan didn't waste a second. He gripped the sackcloth and yanked it off the man's head. The prisoner's head lolled back against the frame, dark hair falling messily over his forehead. His face was a bloated, purple mess, thick coats of dried blood caked around a brutally broken nose.
Wenzhi let out a dry laugh. "Ouch."
Xinyuan immediately glanced over at Kaiwen, knowing exactly whose knuckles had done that kind of damage. Kaiwen just shrugged, entirely unbothered, and stood up to stretch, coming to a stop right next to Xinyuan.
"Let's worry about the trash later," Kaiwen said, patting his stomach. "What's for dinner?"
He tried to brush past him, but Xinyuan quickly moved, blocking his path as his eyes narrowed. "How the hell did you find out where we were staying?"
"I have my ways," Kaiwen said, plucking the bag of food right out of Xinyuan's hand. "Thanks for dinner, by the way."
