An Mo was squatting on the ground, drawing random lines in the dirt with a stick. His face was full of grievance, his movements lazy and irritated, as if he had suffered some great injustice.
Not far from him, Xuan Long sat on a large rock.
The wide river flowed steadily in front of him, its surface reflecting the dim light filtering through the trees. He looked calm, almost distant, as if his thoughts were far away from this place.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Only the sound of flowing water could be heard.
Then, Xuan Long finally broke the silence.
"So…" he said slowly, his voice low and steady, "are they really searching for me right now?"
An Mo paused. The stick in his hand stopped moving.
The next second, he suddenly threw the half-chewed piece of stick in his hand to the ground and jumped to his feet.
"Of course they are!" he snapped, turning to glare at Xuan Long. His expression was full of disbelief.
"You think I came all the way here for fun?!"
