How could Qiao Mu discern that this young woman held hopes of relying on sheer luck?
Following the mission's acceptance, they joined a sizable group of students exiting the academy.
It was already ten in the evening. The headwind blew with a moderate chill, but it was no longer bone-piercing. After all, April was approaching, heralding the onset of spring.
Qiao Mu walked beside Mo Lian, and as he held her hand, she felt warmth seep into her palm.
Mo Lian had a fiery constitution and wielded sacred fire. His hands remained dry and warm throughout the year, which she particularly cherished.
In contrast, her own four feet were perpetually cool, and her nervousness compounded the cold, leaving her palms clammy and uncomfortable.
Mo Lian reached out and playfully pinched her soft cheeks. "Qiaoqiao, there are more than ten of us. How about splitting into three teams to search the city?"
