Smile.
Kun remembered vividly the first time he'd seen Long Feng at the training academy as a ten-year-old. He'd stood with the other boys in a disciplined line as the older man had stalked down the line, raking each boy with that flinty green gaze.
When his eyes had rested on Kun Yong, the boy had shied back from them. He knew it was a huge breach of the rules to do so, but he just couldn't help it. Long Feng's eyes had been so predatory and cold and glittering and malicious, terrible green jewels that seemed to be burning holes in Kun's brain.
His instructor, Gao Hsing, had savagely slapped him then, shouting, "You stay still for your superiors!"
Long Feng had immediately flung up a hand then, barking at the other man, "No further punishment!" His awful voice softening, he then said, "I'm pleased that he shies from me actually. It means he knows I am to be feared. And from fear respect is born. Soon enough you too, my lad, will be reminding others what respect is," he'd told Kun. And then he'd given the cadet a wolfbat's smile, a smile that made Kun's spine vibrate like a struck gong before Long turned and moved away.