At 6:30 in the morning, the sycamore leaves in the Xingfuli community rustled in the morning breeze, and the electronic screen at the guard box showed 32°C.
Ye Xiaoqiu stood in front of the mirror in the security room and tugged at the collar of his brand new uniform with his fingers - the navy blue fabric was so stiff that it hurt his neck, and the metal buckle on the epaulettes rubbed against his collarbone.
He held up half a fried dough stick in his left hand, and the soy milk in his right hand was still steaming. He tried his best to pull up a standard smile on his lips.
"Hello, may I help you?" He practiced in front of the mirror, his voice deliberately soft at the end, like a duck being strangled.
Ten years ago in the War King's Palace, the whole mountain would tremble when he said "kneel down". Now he has to practice "Hello" in front of the mirror for half an hour.
"Puleng——"
A sparrow flew past the window, its wings flapping against the glass.
Ye Xiaoqiu shook his hand, and the soy milk splashed on the front of his uniform. The dark blue milk stains instantly spread out, as if there was a white flag hanging on his chest.
He stared down at the pool of liquid that was gradually solidifying, and his Adam's apple moved.
Ten years ago, when the master of the Qinglong Sect poured poisonous wine on his heart, he didn't even frown; now looking at the soy milk stains, it felt like someone had stabbed him in the chest.
