The distant hum of engines grew louder. Jian looked up just as a small ship descended from the sky, its sleek form glinting under the broken light that filtered through the clouds. It landed with a soft hiss on the flat ground nearby, the dust beneath it swirling from the force of its thrusters.
Jian's grip on Quangya tightened.
Eren and Varon took the lead, stepping toward the craft with practiced ease. Xing Yu lingered behind them, but not too far—he was now walking a few paces ahead of Jian, stealing quiet glances back every so often.
Jian saw it.
He tried to ignore it, but he saw it.
Each glance Xing Yu threw over his shoulder was brief, almost shy. As if afraid to meet his eyes directly. The tall, strong man—so composed and commanding before—now looked… like a kicked puppy. It was pathetic, honestly.
Pitiful.
But Jian wasn't going to pity him.
Not this man.
