Late at night, by the military camp.
Du Yu and a short man walked together, following the lingering sound of the flute, heading deeper into the valley.
The short man was in his mid-thirties, just over one and a half meters tall.
Although his build was rather small and thin, he had an exceedingly domineering name: Qi Tian.
"Phew~"
Qi Tian lit a small flame at his fingertip and ignited the cigarette hanging from his mouth.
He took a deep drag, his face full of enjoyment, then blew a puff of smoke to the side.
Du Yu watched the man curiously; the thing smelled acrid and irritating—he really didn't know what was enjoyable about it.
"It's not a good thing. Best if you never touch it in your life." The man noticed Du Yu's curiosity and said casually.
Du Yu nodded silently.
"Thank you and Master Qing for your help. You two arrived just in time." Qi Tian turned his head to the side and blew out another mouthful of smoke.
