“Outer-prefecture peddlers sit on the wooden benches by the latrines. Supreme Dragon Box #1 belongs to my Sima House!”
Sima Ao leaned over the golden balustrade of the second floor, flicking a half-eaten grape down toward Grandma Chen and Little Guo’er.
Before the grape could drop three inches, Chu Lingxiao’s fingers flicked a wooden toothpick from her sleeve.
PFFT!
The toothpick impaled the grape in mid-air, pinning it to the mahogany pillar an inch from Sima Ao’s nose. The grape exploded into sticky purple juice, splattering across Sima Ao’s silk collar.
Sima Ao jerked backward, wiping his cheek in shock. “How dare you throw rubbish at an imperial commander?!”
Chu Lingxiao didn’t answer. Her hand rested on her wooden scabbard, her white robes fluttering in the cold draft.
Lin Mo placed a calm hand on Chu Lingxiao’s shoulder, motioning for her to relax.
