"..."
Yu Yanshen was engulfed in a gloomy silence; Yao Qing's sudden outburst felt as though he had been doused head to toe with a bucket of cold water, with every pore of his body infiltrating a frigid breath.
He didn't speak again, his black eyes staring straight at Yao Qing.
Under the gaze of those pitch-black pupils, Yao Qing's agitated and disordered emotions gradually calmed down.
She was silent, first stretching out her hand to sweep all the hair scattered before her eyes behind her ears, revealing a smooth and full forehead. Then she took several deep breaths, downing the juice that had long since grown cold on the table beside her in one gulp.
It seemed as if only then did the fire inside her subside a bit.
The quiet in the room was eerily frightening; minutes passed, more agonizing than hours.
Yu Yanshen rose from the ground, his black hair falling over his deep-set eyes and brows, obscuring his expression almost completely, making it appear dim and unclear.
