Once Qing Lok was out the door, the three of them fell into complete silence. Suddenly, their living room felt like it was too small for them. It was their father who moved first, not saying goodbye or anything. Then he heard him going up the stairs.
Wuming collapsed on the chair Qing Chen was sitting on earlier. "Who should go check on Lok?"
Qing Chen walked to the table and took the three pistols. "Let's just leave him be. He's probably letting off steam."
"Do you think he'll come back tonight?"
The corner of Qing Chen's lips quirked upwards. "From the volume of your voice, I assumed you would be packing your bags and return to your mountain."
"I was thinking about it to be honest," he sighed and sat a little straighter. "But I'm not leaving Chengshi. Not until we're done with all this crap. The Zookeeper. The mafia. And dad."
His eyebrows shot upwards. "You still want to kill father?" he joked.