Don't talk about me as if I'm not here. [ as always, jiang cheng crackles like fire against damp wood, dark and glowering; the demon's dismissive way of talking seems to have touched a nerve.
he draws himself up, away from the coaxing touch of wei wuxian's hand, from the gentle tug that comes at his sleeve from lan wangji seated beside him, though the movement is more subdued than he usually would for such gestures; clearly, he is still walking on proverbial eggshells around them, after what had happened. he doesn't quite rage against the attempts as he would otherwise use to, and his frown only deepens just a fraction, before he turns his gaze back to tomoe. ]
Who says you'd be able to even touch a hair on my head?
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he draws himself up, away from the coaxing touch of wei wuxian's hand, from the gentle tug that comes at his sleeve from lan wangji seated beside him, though the movement is more subdued than he usually would for such gestures; clearly, he is still walking on proverbial eggshells around them, after what had happened. he doesn't quite rage against the attempts as he would otherwise use to, and his frown only deepens just a fraction, before he turns his gaze back to tomoe. ]
Who says you'd be able to even touch a hair on my head?