Thirty thousand feet above the frozen plains of North China, the wide-body jet shuddered through a pocket of winter turbulence.
A porcelain teacup slid off the tray table in seat 2B. Two drops of lukewarm water splashed onto the crocodile-skin handbag resting beside the aisle.
“Are you blind, you clumsy little beggar?!”
A shrill scream tore through the quiet first-class cabin.
Before the seatbelt sign even finished chiming, Murong Xue kicked her footrest down and stood up. She wore a white mink shawl over a designer dress, and her manicured fingers shook with rage as she pointed at the nineteen-year-old trainee stewardess in the aisle.
Sitting one row ahead in seat 1A, Lin Mo lowered his cup of warm soy milk and looked back.
His [Goodness-Viewing Eye Lv.3] ([Pure-Heart Eye Lv.3]) activated without a sound.
Above Murong Xue’s curled hair floated a murky gray halo.
