Mei-Yi had to sleep face down in order to try and mitigate the worst effects of her state of undress, which did not exactly give her a good night’s sleep. Even though Yong-Liang had picked a very obscure spot in the wilderness where no one could see, it was still extremely uncomfortable. Although she didn’t feel too cold in the rays of the moon, sleeping naked for her was still not a pleasant experience. Luckily, most of her fellow boxers were all vowed to chastity, otherwise she would have gotten a few unflattering or annoying comments. After all, she couldn’t keep her arms over her privates forever, and occasionally had to trade a brief moment of exposure for a better position. So, she simply lay down twisted with her arms over them. Yong-Liang offered to let her use his blanket for the lower region, but that was far too small, and she didn’t want to impose. He had an intense debate with her about whether she would win in a fight against Wong-Fei Hong (popular folk hero), which she adamantly claimed she would be beaten thoroughly. Yong-Liang had asserted that even if she kept covering herself, and thus denied herself use of her arms she could still win due to her size. She secretly agreed, but just hoped the magistrate would come back soon with the clothes. 

“Hey, Li Huang? Can I ask you something?”

Mei-Yi’s voice resonated throughout the landscape. Li Huang was basically the stereotypical old, venerable martial arts master. Mei-Yi especially enjoyed talking to him, since he gave excellent advice in every possible situation, as well as pretty much never being wrong. He was a master of these magical jitong rituals that gave the boxers their mystical powers. As well as being responsible for her growth spurt. Also, he reminded her of her father… 

“Of course, Mei-Ying. What do you need?”

Apparently one effect of the magical growth was drastically improved hearing. Li Huang hobbled over next to Mei-Yi’s face, and she had to turn her head sideways to look at him. He, as you may have expected, sported a long, white beard whose length rivaled his queue. From behind his wise beard jutted his rather prolonged cheekbones. His eyebrows were almost always raised in a somewhat condescending jubilant manner. His sloughing skin was riddled with dark blotches. He carried a humble quarterstaff which he used both to fight and to walk.

“Well, it’s just since the ritual I haven’t felt thirsty, hungry, or anything. I know this is permanent, but I’m not sure if that’s meant to happen or…”

“I am afraid so. Didn’t you read the original manuscript for the ritual, like I told you?” 

Mei-Yi had not. Before performing the life-changing ritual, Li Huang had asked her to read an ancient treatise which told of all the criteria, effect, and dangers of the ritual. Mei-Yi was far too excited to read it thoroughly, and simply skimmed over it.

“No, I mean yes, I mean... Some of it.” 

Li Huang gave her a patronizing, telltale look.

“In case you happened to forget, this particular ritual isn’t just for anyone. It’s only for the jitong, one that has been selected specifically by the gods. Once the ritual has been performed, your body will be controlled by the gods, becoming a tongji. You, essentially, now are a goddess. You do not need food, water, or even air, to be honest. You cannot be hurt in any physical way. As for hurting others, you can only hurt those you mean to hurt. A quite useful ability. And yes, this is permanent.”

Mei-Yi sighed. Coming to terms with the fact that she would pretty much never eat again was bizarrely surreal.

“We all admire you for your outstanding sacrifice, Mei-Yi. Since our own army can’t stand up to the foreign devils, we must. You must.”

“Li Huang, can you tell me more about the foreign devils?” Li Huang was quite the soldier as a youth. He brushed off some residue from a large stone and sat down. Li Huang sitting down typically meant he was about to tell a long, rambling anecdote. Mei-Yi didn’t mind, as he was a skillful raconteur.

“Have I told you about the Formosan skirmishes?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“What about the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom?”

“Those crazy religious cultists?”

“Yes. I surely have not told you about the Annam ambushes?”

“Yeah, you-, actually, tell me again. The one about the river.”

Li Huang leaned backward on the rock and placed his two wrinkly hands together on his chest. Before he could begin, a low-pitched horn shook the area from nearby. Its deep, shaky wail preceded several loud cymbal clashes.

Mei-Yi got up carefully so as to not accidentally squash anyone nearby. Li Huang raised his ancient eyebrows patronizingly as they saw several garish bright red flags wave from over the horizon.

“That must be the magistrate!” Yong-Liang shouted.

Indeed, it was. Peeping out of his lavish sedan chair like an overweight snail, the magistrate also brought an even larger guard and retinue of servants. Behind him were several ox-pulled carts with an enormous stack of white cloth on it. Upon further inspection, it wasn’t just a monstrous pile of cloth, but rather only a few gigantic garments. The boxers gathered together, and all the normal sized ones bowed three times to the magistrate. The waving red flags flowed gracefully in the air as if flying, and towered over the magistrate and his group. Mei-Yi in turn dwarfed the whole retinue. They were no bigger than an assortment of colored rocks to her. The magistrate cleared his throat in a very matter of fact way.

“Heroes of China! I bring good news! Her royal highness, the emperor of the Middle Kingdom, has graciously returned your admiration! She has pledged to commit the forces of the Imperial Army!” He announced this in a parade-ground roar, much to the delight of the boxers. 

“You know, I have some friends in the high court. I knew Duan would come through for me!” he chuckled, in a much softer tone than before. His source of amusement was abruptly cut off however. Mei-Yi reached for the clothes. This simple act had a much greater effect on the people below. As soon as she moved, the earth shook. When her outstretched arm hovered over the magistrate’s crew, they instinctively cowered in fear. The oxen, startled, tried to stampede their way out, but were only barely restrained by the driver, who also ducked at the sight of Mei-Yi. She grabbed the whole stack. There was a short-sleeved jacket (with a rather misshapen character for bravery,) a pair of shorts, and some undergarments. As she retracted her arm, she noticed the reaction of the people below. 

“Sorry, I mean, I don’t really want to keep standing here naked.”

The magistrate was not used to being interrupted. In most cases he would have let his anger rise, but here he reasoned that getting angry was probably not such a good idea.

“Well, then! Let’s see how it fits you!” 

Mei-Yi blushed as she realized everyone was watching her. (They were before, but only now did she know.) 

“Actually, I don’t think you all need to see me get dressed. Sir, can you tell a story or something please?”

Much to his chagrin, the magistrate was particularly not used to receiving orders. He blinked a few times in rapid succession, and took a deep breath.

“That jacket you see? Woven from only the highest quality silk in all of the world! Silk from Her Majesty’s Own Precious Silkworms themselves, Dingding, Baobao, and Peony! Tailored by only the most skilled-”

The magistrate went on a ramble about how much it cost (from his vast personal fortune of course) to make the jacket in such a quick timespan, the material used, the personalities of Her Majesty’s Own Precious Silkworms, etc. Mei-Yi tried to keep the clothes pressed against her body to cover herself, but the pleats of the clothing kept dangling dangerously close above the heads of those below her. She got up, and walked backwards behind the crowd, carefully placing each step. Of course, no one really cared about Her Majesty’s Own Precious Silkworms, no matter how many leaves they supposedly ate in one day, and all eyes were still fixed on Mei-Yi. She did not appreciate her attention. 

“Uh, keep listening to the silkworm thing please. No peeking!”

The magistrate, a little insulted by HMOPS being called the “silkworm thing,” nonetheless continued on. Mei-Yi decided her breasts were the most flagrant signs of her nudity. As a result, she flipped awkwardly through the unwieldy clothing, and found a dudou, which she pressed to her body quickly, tying it on as hastily as she could with one hand. Some of the younger members of the magistrate’s entourage watched a little too closely, but most of the boxers held strong to their vows of chastity. After the dudou was tied securely on, she wrapped her jacket around herself. Finally, she slipped into her panties (which also had a striking red “courage” symbol, to which she scoffed at) and shorts. She pushed down some of the folds with relish. Finally, she was in a respectable state. The clothing, although miraculously stable, was a little too big. She walked back to listen to the magistrate, again shaking the earth and disturbing his fascinating tale about how HMOPS magically spelled out a prophetic message using their silk or something. She crouched down gingerly.

“Okay, what other news do you have, sir?”

The magistrate cleared his throat, and beckoned a few soldiers in his guard up.

“Yes, as I said, the Empress of all China has vowed to commit the forces of the Imperial Army. As such, I have assigned you your own personal squad. Allow me to introduce them.”

The soldiers advanced in a parallel line to Mei-Yi. They all wore a similar blue-black-yellow uniform, and on their backs they carried sleek, Western rifles. One of them had a familiar round face.

“I do believe you have already met Private Xiong. Well, he himself chose to be your rifleman!”  

Xiong turned away bashfully and kowtowed. Mei-Yi did the same.

“Of course, he’s not alone. Here, we have Luo-Yang, your pikeman.” 

Luo-Yang bowed. He carried an abnormally long spear, complete with some eye-catching red horsehair attached near the pointy end. To Mei-Yi, it looked incredibly fragile.

“This is Xue-Yu, the translator. That’s Kan-Tu, the navigator. Finally, the venerable Tong-Pao, the squad leader!”

Mei-Yi was having trouble remembering their names. It didn’t help that they all wore pretty much identical uniforms, with the only exception being Tong-Pao wearing a Manchu hat with a trailing feather as opposed to a turban. Wait, was it Tong-Pao or Tong-Bao? Mei-Yi didn’t even get to see their facial features, since they were all kowtowing towards her. They bowed so obsequiously that their faces touched the ground. Even though Mei-Yi wasn’t even close to being a noble, they judged that to respect her would be quite good for self-preservation. 

“Oh no, you don’t need to do that…” she uttered gently. 

“The purpose of our bodies is to serve you!” they shouted with varying levels of enthusiasm. Though it was supposed to invoke classical values of piety, it just sounded provocative. This made Mei-Yi even more embarrassed. 

“Oh…” 

The magistrate decided to continue practicing his shouty voice. 

“As heroes of China, of course, you will not only be fighting against the foreign devils, but defending the common folk from the worst elements of our glorious society. In order for you to ‘practice,’ I have brought for you two condemned criminals.”

Two men stepped into view from behind a wall of servants and soldiers. Both were firmly headlocked in a cangue that was roughly adorned with anecdotes of their crimes. Their posture was hunched, and their hands held the thick wooden slab dejectedly upwards. Both their queues were rudely torn off and parts of their hair were missing, instead replaced with scabbed bare skin. One of them had a very fearful look in his constantly shifting eyes, while the other just looked annoyed. But both looked shocked at the sight of Mei-Yi. Mei-Yi was not looking forward to this “practice.” The magistrate continued.

“These two are sentenced to death. One of them killed another man in cold blood, while the other cut his pigtail. A sign of treason of the highest order.” the magistrate finished with relish. At this the scared man erupted into panic.

“No! For the great staff of Tu Di Gong, are you serious? Listen! Please, listen! I traveled to America to find my father, and the devils there beat me, and tore my hair off! I barely managed to escape! I didn’t do it!”

The magistrate waved his implorations away with one ring-adorned hand.

“Why were you traveling there, anyway? Are you a collaborator with the devils?”

 He sneered rudely, and he smiled like a malevolent toad. 

“No! My father went there some time ago because they had gold or something, and only recently did I try to find him, but the devils there were barbaric! They beat me, and-”

“A likely story! Whatever. You may execute them any way you like!” 

Mei-Yi had been studying them silently. The one that had voiced his displeasure was in stark contrast to the other silent murder convict, who just watched the whole thing as if it were amusing. She wasn’t sure what to do with them. 

“Good lady Mei-Yi, would you care to enlighten us all with a public execution?”

The terrified man stared up at Mei-Yi, imploring her pity, until she had to look away out of displeasure. 

“No! I mean, not right now, uh, eh, I don’t think so. How about in private? I think such a busy lord like you has better things to do, right?” 

The magistrate was somewhat disappointed, but instead adjusted his flamboyant golden fingernail coverings. 

“Certainly. I, however, have a little gift for your friend.”

He snapped his fingers, and a servant brought up a sword. 

“Yong-Liang, I recommend you don’t try out your fancy karate gimmicks ever again, since other officials may not have the lovely sense of humor I do. But, as a gift for you for your devotion to the people of China, I give to you your sword.” 

Giving something to Yong-Liang that he pretty much already owned was not particularly generous, but the magistrate liked displaying his wealth, and not so much of the giving away, unless for show. Yong-Liang accepted the sword from the servant with grace nonetheless.

“Thank you, sir.”

The magistrate beamed at this act of supposed charity, and then wiped at the perspiration gathering underneath his cap.

“I must be going now. I think I may be able to get you all a personal audience with Prince Duan himself later on,” he laughed haughtily. “But for now, protect all the villages you can from bandits and devils and all that. But for now, I must bid you farewell, heroes of China.” He waited for the boxers to bow down to him. Mei-Yi wasn’t particularly a big fan of the magistrate man, especially with his sympathetic consolation of the prisoner. She suddenly remembered something.

“Hey, magistrate! You know how we make silk?”

The magistrate did not appreciate being challenged by some peasant woman, no matter her size. 

“Most certainly. The silkworms just secrete it, like a spider. Why do you ask?” 

Mei-Yi grinned.

“Actually, we get the silk from the cocoons. And I am afraid they don’t survive the procedure.”

The magistrate gasped.

“You mean to tell me that-”

“That you committed silkworm genocide? Don’t worry, Her Majesty’s Own Precious Silkworms are safe. This is actually imitation silk.”

“What? Impossible! That’s the finest silk in the-”

“For clothing of this size, we would need every silkworm in China.”

“Outrageous!” he clamored. “I’ll have the tailors executed!”

Mei-Yi was not expecting his reaction to be, well, this.

“Oh no, that’s not necessary, this is good enough-”

“Certainly not! I’ll have them die by a thousand cuts!”

“Actually, you can just send them to me, and I’ll deal with them,” Mei-Yi lied. “In fact, I’ll find them myself.”

The magistrate wasn’t sure how to react, so he just nodded and signalled for his horde of servants to lift him and his sedan chair out of there. Even as their raucous procession waddled away, Mei-Yi’s little squad was still kneeling submissively. The prisoners just stood there awkwardly. They weren’t sure what was going to happen to them. Mei-Yi just stared at the prisoners uncomfortably. She sighed, as she thought to probably get the “execution” over with. Some of the boxers decided to practice martial arts away from Mei-Yi’s potential killing. Li Huang and Yong-Liang remained near her however, but soon started a game of weiqi. Mei-Yi leaned backwards and stopped crouching uncomfortably and instead sat down, now that the magistrate’s presence stopped denying her leg room. She spread her bare feet near the prisoners casually, her wiggling toes stretching high above them. The prisoners recoiled in terror, and Mei-Yi suddenly realized how rude she was. Muttering an apology, she then sat cross legged. There was silence for a little bit. 

“Uh. So. Here, let me free you from that cangue. Hold still.” She leaned forward and reached for the tiny wooden block. Taking as much care not to hurt the two squirming prisoners, she placed two fingers around the cangue, and slowly crushed it to avoid sending any splinters into their eyes. It, despite being a solid hunk of wood, crumbled like a wad of stuck together rice. The prisoners celebrated their new freedom by massaging their necks. Despite their apparent comradery, both of them winced away from each other, sharing an apparent mutual dislike. Mei-Yi, meanwhile, lied down on her belly so she could see the prisoners in much closer detail. She had to get up slowly so as to not cause any unwanted earthquakes, and then had to be exceptionally wary of her surroundings.Once she finally lied down, another awkward silence prevailed. The prisoners could not be expected to speak without being spoken to, since Mei-Yi was fully dominant over them here, as much as she tried to make them feel this was not so. Her gigantic breasts (to them anyway) were all they could see without craning their necks upwards, and if they did so they would have to look at her huge, almost hypnotic eyes. She studied them carefully, unintentionally making them very uncomfortable. She propped her head up with her arms, which tore into the ground, leaving a small indentation to her, but a crater to them. They saw her feet swing around in the air carelessly behind her. Suddenly, there was a cry from the direction of Mei-Yi’s kneeling squad. Kneeling for a long time was uncomfortable, and apparently the squad leader, Tong-Pao, had tumbled over. Now that he wasn’t keeping his face to the ground and butt in the air, Mei-Yi saw he was quite old. He didn’t have such a magnificent beard as Li Huang, but he still did not look to be a fighting type. As soon as Mei-Yi looked at him, Luo-Yang immediately sprang up and ran in front of him, dropping his obnoxiously long pike in the process. He spread his arms out as if to protect him, and looked Mei-Yi straight in the eye. The others rushed to help Tong-Pao up. 

“I’m so sorry, merciful goddess! Please, I beseech you, forgive Tong-Pao for this! He is old, and cannot stand kneeling for long! Kill me instead of him, I beg you, spare him!”

Mei-Yi was rather taken aback at this reaction. She hadn’t even done anything except look at them. The melodramatic display by Luo-Yang was pretty humorous to her, actually. She couldn’t hold back a little giggle. Luo-Yang took this to be cruelty and braced himself.

“I’m sorry, when did I ever say I was going to kill you? Please, I’m not your master! Just do whatever you’d like, for now. And Tong-Bao, I, well, I’m sorry about that. I hope you’re fine.”

Luo-Yang sighed in relief. The younger soldiers started teasing him, but quickly stopped when they realized Mei-Yi was still watching. (Tong-Pao decided not to correct Mei-Yi on the pronunciation of his name.) They were about to bow down again when Mei-Yi expressed her opinions.

“Listen, I’m not the magistrate, so no need to be so formal. Really. And call me Mei-Yi, not ‘merciful goddess’ or whatever. Seriously. Just be casual.” 

The soldiers nodded, but still very coldly, and then ran off to gamble. As Mei-Yi turned her head, she noticed Xiong was staring at her, but quickly ran off to rejoin the others. Mei-Yi now turned to face the prisoners, and cleared her throat. They hadn’t escaped, probably out of fear. 

“So… You.” She pointed at the scared prisoner. “What’s your name?”  

The scared prisoner stared up at her innocent brown eyes, then immediately continued looking at the ground, and gulped. He wore a simple brown tunic with matching pants, nothing out of the ordinary. His remarkably well shaven face had a rather distinct mousey look to it, which seemed to add to his apparently horrendous self-esteem.

“A-a-ao Ling.” this barely registered as a squeak for Mei-Yi. 

“Well, Ao Ling, what did you say about your pigtail?”

“Oh… so, listen, I know this sounds insane, but I recently traveled to America. My father went there to earn money for the family some time ago since they found gold there, and I-I thought I ought to join him eventually, he, uh, opened up his own restaurant there, but that was a complete mistake. They shoved me onto one of these huge metal boats, for what, ten, twenty days, I lost count, and brought me to America.” He paused, not for effect, but rather out of emotion, and shuddered. Mei-Yi did not expect a whole sob story, but still felt very bad for him.

“You don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to…”

Ao Ling looked up timidly.

“But if I don’t, you’ll execute me…”

A look of surprised offense materialized over Mei-Yi’s face. 

“No! Why would I do that? Please, keep going. But only if you want to. I’m interested. Like, legitimately.”

The man nodded shyly, and continued.

“The devils made me take off my clothes and they poked me with a bunch of metal instruments. It was humiliating! After that, well, I expected to be greeted by my father, but no, instead there was this crowd of devils, and they beat me horribly! By the hairy whiskers of Dong Zhuo himself, it was awful!” he raised a fist, which to Mei-Yi looked cute. To him, however, it was a sign of defiance. “Why, if there wasn’t a whole horde of them, I would have given them a beating! But they pulled out my queue. They kicked me out of America, and I had to rely on a ship worker’s kindness to return back. I never saw my father.” he finished with a pained look. “So please, on your humanity, have mercy on me. It won’t take much for you not to end my pathetic existence, but for me, it would-”

“Whoa, I’m not going to hurt you! You can go if you want right now, actually. You have a family, right? I can take you to them.” Mei-Yi felt awful for the poor man, and was tempted to pet him, the sobbing little mess cowering on the ground. However, this would have been incredibly humiliating, so she restrained herself.

Ao Ling looked up at her, this time not just for a few seconds.

“R-really? You’re going to let me live? The magistrate said-”

“Of course! When have I ever said I was going to hurt you?” 

For a second, his brow lit up, beaming with joy. Then, it vanished. 

“But I have nowhere to go. I don’t even know where my family is, much less my father. And they’ll actually kill me if they see my hair. I’m not sure what to do.” he rubbed the spot where his queue used to hang sadly. The other prisoner was not particularly sympathetic, and simply scoffed as he stood there with his arms crossed. His queue was in a similar state of nonexistence, but he did not mind. 

“You know, you can stay with me for some time, if you want. We can search for your family, and maybe your father later.” Mei-Yi offered in a tender voice. Well, as tender as she could get her voice to be, considering how loud she spoke now even when whispering. 

“Really?” he looked up to her in amazement.

“Sure! You can also practice shadow boxing with us, in case you ever need it!”

“Thank you! Oh, thank you! I owe you my life, oh wise goddess!” he sang in joy. 

“Yeah, just call me Mei-Yi. All that ‘goddess’ stuff is not really my thing. Now, go join those two over there playing weiqi over there. Once I finish talking to this guy, you all can play mahjong.” she smiled warmly at him. Before, Ao Ling had walked with a shambling gait, but now kept his back straight and a lot more confidence. Mei-Yi redirected her smile towards the other prisoner. 

“So, what’s your name then?”

This prisoner did not have the desperate attitude of Ao Ling. He was pretty much the opposite of Ling, being rather tall and of a sturdy build. His unshaven face was blocky, and had deep eyebrows that seemed to be permanently in a scowl. However, he had the common decency to bend over for Ao Ling while in the cangue so that Ling could actually touch the ground and not just suffocate. He had several marks on his wrists that appeared to be indentations from shackles. 

“Xiang-Ru.” he did not say this in the same terrified way Ao Ling did, but rather it sounded like he was spitting unpleasantly. Mei-Yi did not appreciate this, but continued nonetheless.

“So, the magistrate said you killed someone? Why did you do it?”

Xiang-Ru sighed.

“For the love of Diaochan, what is this? 20 questions?”

“Hey, no need to be so rude. I’m just trying to understand why you did it. The magistrate is not exactly the most credible of witnesses.” she said this last part somewhat softly.

“If you insist. I killed that man because he didn’t pay up. He broke a promise to my family.” he snapped. Mei-Yi blinked a few times, trying to rationalize Xiang-Ru’s words. She really did not want to execute anyone.

“Well, I’m sure he deserved it, since he broke a promise to your family. What was it?”

“No, you dumbass, it’s a gang, not a legitimate family. (Mei-Ying narrowed her eyes a little at this.) That man didn’t just refuse to pay up, he couldn’t pay up. Asshole just would not shut up about taxes or some shit.”

“So, you’re not defending yourself?” Mei-Ying inquired. 

“Why would I defend myself? I literally turned myself in because a brother of the gang actually did it, and was suspected. You think I’m just here to waste everyone’s time? So, you gonna kill me? Or let me go? This is degrading. It’s humiliating to have to answer a shit ton of questions from some giant whore-”

“Hey!” Yong-Liang shouted over from the weiqi table. (It may not have been him actually standing up for her, since he was losing horribly to Li Huang, but we’ll just assume he was.) He stomped briskly over to Xiang-Ru. He glared at Xiang-Ru, and despite Xiang-Ru clearly being able to defend himself, he kept his arms behind his back respectfully. The arrogant look in his face betrayed this gesture though. 

“Listen here, buddy, keep talking like that, and you’ll find my fist to your face real quick.”

Xiang-Ru spat on Yong-Liang’s shoes. 

“You want me to teach this guy a lesson, Mei-Yi?” Yong-Liang clenched his fists.

“Well… he’s clearly guilty, and he feels no repentance. So you can do me a favor, and umm…” Mei-Yi, despite apparently swearing to kill all the foreign devils, found out that when it actually came to the killing, she was a bit squeamish. Xiang-Ru sneered.

“Wait!”

Li Huang came hobbling over with his stick, followed by Ao Ling.

“Mei-Yi, I am sorry, but you have to execute him yourself.” 

“What?” 

Li Huang gave her one of his charismatic stares.

“You have strengthened your body greatly, yes, but you need to strengthen your mind as well. If you do not kill this evil man right now, what will happen when you meet the foreign devils in combat?” Mei-Yi was thinking that maybe she wouldn’t actually kill all of them, and would probably just give them enough of a scare to sod off. 

“Well, if you say so…” Mei-Yi stood up, and brushed her jacket off, (showering everybody with specks of dirt and grass). She stood at the tiny figure of Xiang-Ru below her.

“Please, renounce your crime and I’ll gladly let you live.” Mei-Yi pleaded.

“Will you let me go free?”

“Well… I’m sorry, but I have to defend justice. Your brother, I think I’ll have to- I mean, I don’t think I can let you go.” 

“And live in bondage with you and your precious disciples? So my brother can get shot by the magistrate’s goonies? Ah, fuck you. Listen to the geezer.” Despite her shooting imploring glances at him, (he really was the opposite of Ao Ling) he refused to cast his scowl away.

Mei-Yi didn’t want to get her hands dirty, so she raised her foot over him. According to Li Huang, she could only hurt people she wanted to. She decided to think about it logically. By letting this guy live, she was actively obstructing justice. If she let him go, him and his gang would probably kill even more people. In a moment of decisiveness, she stomped her foot to the ground, half-hoping for him to just collapse over like Yong-Liang. There was a sickening crunch. She did not dare to lift her foot up. Tears welled up in her eyes. There was an eerie moment of silence.

“I suppose we’re not doing mahjong then.” remarked Yong-Liang gloomily.