Ever since the answer was announced by the Inspector, Chang Weicai had been looking down, his fists clenched.
As the screams filled the air, he hung his head even lower, his fists clenching tighter. His lean body started shaking uncontrollably…
He was regretful.
He had instinctively chosen a subject he was good at, he had forgotten, besides him, everyone else in the room were young people! These people basically didn't know much about ancient poetry!
If someone had died because of this... it would be as if....he had indirectly killed them!
The metal chair slowly swiveled back. Person on it had disappeared yet again, leaving only the disarrayed blood stains on the chair, and the scraping scratches, giving people a vague sense of the horror after death.
"I'm sorry..." With tears streaming down Chang Weicai's face, he held his head low, afraid to face others, "I'm sorry...I'm sorry..."
