Liu Kuan was nervous. To be precise, he had been anxious from the very first moment he laid eyes on Shen Hao. This anxiety came with no obvious cause—not because he was guilty of anything or worried Shen Hao would discover his secrets. Quite the opposite, in fact. Recently, he'd done a good job, both internally and externally, no longer indulging in his old habits of idling through his duties.
But the moment he saw Shen Hao, his nerves unraveled. Perhaps a more fitting word would be: fear.
A wild boar does not fear a tiger simply because it stole some of the tiger's food, but because the tiger could eat it at any moment.
Now, Liu Kuan felt like a pathetic and helpless boar, while the cold-faced Shen Hao beside him was the tiger, contemplating whether or not to devour him.
After checking the case files and reviewing the copper cabinet's letter registry, Shen Hao finally made his way to the dungeon to inspect the perimeter defenses.
