"What are you doing?" The man heard himself asking.
Heads snapped toward Qiao Wei, whose eyes crackled like smoldering embers.
"Nothing," Zhang Fengxi quickly released Meng Xiyan from his grip. "I was just..."
"I don't care," Qiao Wei interrupted him mid-speech. "Sorry to disturb you. I will go take a nap now."
Storming past gaping onlookers, Qiao Wei marched toward one of the empty chambers and slammed the door shut behind him, the clang echoing his rage. The meticulous order of the room, a stark contrast to the turmoil within, only fueled his fury.
The roar of his blood, a relentless river, drowned out the world. Every beat of his heart pounded out a rhythm of fury, fueled by the image of Zhang Fengxi touching another man.
