The man in black robes fearfully glanced at Yang Qing.
"Forgive my—"
"Forgive my lacking manners, but I think I should warn you before you complete that sentence," said Yang Qing slowly, cutting the man off mid-sentence.
"Look below you," Yang Qing said. "You see that?" he added, pointing at the snow-white four-leaf clover now imprinted on the middle-aged man's chest. It was positioned where his chest met his stomach.
The instant the man saw the clover, his face went pale. He would have dropped to his knees and begged for his life if not for the fact that Yang Qing didn't seem done talking—and he was far too terrified to interrupt.
"That seal is a stronger version of what you were hit with," Yang Qing said softly.
The middle-aged man grew even paler as his frightened gaze shifted between Yang Qing, the clover on his torso, and the area behind Yang Qing.
