"Second-in-command, you've been awfully quiet," Le Yuxin said, twirling his own hair with his fingers. Jing Zhengwei's hair—it was so black, long, and silky, it just fell straight down, tickling his earlobes and neck. Suddenly, Le Yuxin kind of wanted to gel it up like a Saiyan.
Yin Minghong clasped his fists and bowed his head, saying calmly, "Young master is brilliant, valiant, and wise, able to see through anything, so this subordinate only has to follow orders, why would I disturb your thoughts?"
"Why do I feel there's something sarcastic in your tone?" Le Yuxin glanced at the ledger, and was immediately bored by those rows and rows of numbers. He handed the book to Qing Lan, and said absentmindedly, "Anyway, this mess happened to me at Red Moon Fortress, so don't you owe me an explanation?"
"Please punish me, young master," Yin Minghong said, "I was deceived by Old Huo and only heard his side of the story. I truly don't know where that assassin came from."
