Exclamations on the bluestone-paved street cracked like firecrackers, rolling with the wind toward the Xuan'an Bureau.
Pi Yanlin had just tucked his token into his sleeve, the cold sweat on the back of his neck not yet dry, when he saw Gu Qinghuan's scabbard strike the doorframe.
"Move." As she turned, the ends of her hair brushed his nose, stirring up a chill of frosty blade-qi.
Chapter 58