“…my dear butterfly,” his voice came out in a shushed tone, echoing around the forest you were walking through.

Rain started to pour around you between the foliage of the trees, and suddenly a umbrella appeared above you.

Hua Cheng stood at your side, a soft yet cocky smile on his face. His one eye gazed at you softly and the silver chains around his boots and clothing tinkled softly.

“You’ll get wet, butterfly,” he spoke in a quiet voice. “We wouldn’t want that…,”