Zhong Yuye lowered his eyelashes and said he was leaving, indifferent, and repeated, "No need."
"OK." Rong Yan didn't have the slightest intention of 'seeing something through to the end', and once she was sure he didn't need her help, she spread her hands and said directly, "Since you don't need my help, I have other things to attend to, so I'll be leaving now. You should stay here for the time being and leave after everyone else has gone."
"You may go."
This attitude... tsk tsk...
Rong Yan picked up her bag, handed him the key to the door, and walked out, pulling the door open as she left.
The room suddenly became quiet.
Zhong Yuye let out a muffled groan, pressed his chest, and coughed up a mouthful of congealed blood. His pale face slowly stripped off his black T-shirt. His shoulder was a bloody mess, clearly a gunshot wound. Blood continued to flow from the wound incessantly...
