After Su Jue's words fell, he didn't get a response for a long time, so much so that he thought he had spoken too softly for Yao Qing not to have heard him.
"Miss Yao, it's me, I came for you."
He repeated himself.
Yao Qing, unnoticed, had leaned against the vending machine, half-collapsed against the wall, her pale, slender wrists shackled in front of her eyes and brows.
It took her a few seconds to slightly knit her brows, looking down, she glanced sideways at Su Jue.
Her eyes were a dark expanse that inexplicably made one feel chilled.
Su Jue preferred to believe it was the bone-chilling night breeze.
"For me?"
The woman's voice slid past his ear, the tone already thin, now like a gust of wind.
But it was that kind of cold wind, biting and sharp.
Su Jue looked at Yao Qing's face, hesitated momentarily, but still spoke up.
"Miss Yao, Mr. Yanshen is looking for you… he has something to say."
-
