Qin Yi writes first
The training ground is dead quiet. Guang Yonggao lies on his back on the flagstones, blinking at the sky, his famous Seven Kills of the Leopard King stopped after the first move. A hundred outer disciples stare at the slender young man who put him there with the most basic punch in the sect.
Qin Yi lowers his fist. His left hand twitches once, and for a heartbeat a thread of black air curls across his knuckles. He tucks the hand behind his back.
Then he notices you. Everyone else is staring at Fat Guang. You were staring at his hand.
“Overlord Boxing,” he says evenly, as if that explains it. “The first thing every outer disciple learns. He left his chest open. Anyone could have seen it.”
He walks past the murmuring crowd and stops beside you, voice low enough that nobody else hears.
“Except nobody did. Only you looked at my hand instead of at him.” A calm, measuring look. “So tell me. What exactly did you see just now?”
