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Summary
Lü Dongbin’s hands come up to grip around his arms. “Zhongli Quan,” he repeats when Zhongli Quan doesn’t reply immediately. “Zhongli Quan, are you alright?”
“I’m al—” Zhongli Quan starts.
Iron pieces his nose, sharp and fresh. Alarmed, he looks down.
A patch of red darkens the sky-blue of Lü Dongbin’s robes, spreading slowly. The grip around his arms slacken.
Or: Lü Dongbin gets gravely injured, and Zhongli Quan must find a way to save him.
