The room reeked of blood. Xiao Lin closed the door and sat down on the sofa. He habitually turned on the TV, which was playing a war movie. He stared at the screen, his mind still tense, unable to relax.
"Injured?" Xiao Lin inquired to the empty room. He sometimes wondered how Consort Ling managed to be like a shadow; such a skill should really be taught to Night Eagle and his team in the information department since it would be incredibly useful. Recently, there was no news from Dragon Soul at all, as if the world had suddenly become peaceful.
"Surface wounds!" Consort Ling's voice also had a fatigued undertone. Following the direction of the voice, it seemed to be coming from near the door—no wonder the smell of blood was noticeable upon entering.
"It's just the two of us now, no need to hide." Xiao Lin beckoned toward the entrance, "Come here, let me take a look at you."
