At the hour of the rat, three days later, the blue-tiled roof of the West Market warehouse shimmered cold and white under the moonlight.
Gu Qinghuan touched her toes to the wall top, her dark-colored combat gear snapping in the night wind. When she glanced back, she saw Pi Yanlin climbing up at a leisurely pace, clutching a bundle of straw to his chest—heaven knows where he’d swiped that from.
"You certainly know how to pick your moments to slack off," she murmured, lowering her voice, her blade spinning in her palm. "If there’s an ambush—"
Chapter 64