Crouching in the pitch-black Wetland Park, Qiao An gradually grew accustomed to the remote, deserted surroundings. She ordered Sheng Bai to gather some firewood—it would be freezing otherwise.
In this weather, Sheng Bai and the ugly duck could handle the cold, but the delicate Little Fox in her arms absolutely could not.
When Jiang Bin arrived with his men, they found the supposedly deserted woods illuminated by a bonfire. Qiao An was perched on a makeshift throne of piled-up dead leaves, a stick in hand, roasting fragrant marshmallows.
Behind her, the ugly duck—a Class I protected animal—was busy scraping nearby fallen leaves to build up her throne. In the distance, the Little Fox was scurrying about, with Sheng Bai chasing after it to keep it from eating too much dried meat and getting indigestion.
This seemingly idyllic scene was shattered by the sound of shuffling footsteps. A man in a crisp police uniform stood before the fire, his expression cold.
