With a rough and forceful movement, Zhong Yun tossed that man out and slammed the door shut with enough force to shake the walls. The man's pained growls and curses sounded from the other side for a few seconds, followed by the echo of his retreating footsteps.
And then, it was silent.
Thick and heavy silence hung in the air, accentuated only by the faint sound of Qin Zhen's uneven breathing. He stared blankly at the door, his pupils shaking. Cold dread settled on the pit of his stomach, and he felt even more horrible than when he had to confront his past fling earlier. It was to the point where he started to break out into sweats, despite the intense chill that permeated deep into his bones.
His throat ran dry, and his mouth seemed to have been sealed shut with glue. He couldn't bring himself to raise his gaze, let alone speak. He dared not to.
It was because the person before him was not a nobody, but Zhong Yun.
