Long Chengyu's gaze, deep and indifferent, shifted away as he lowered his eyelids, not continuing the conversation.
"Finish him off, but leave him breathing. Maybe he'll say something, might even reveal the answers you want to hear."
A moment later, Long Ziheng spoke indifferently with such a sentence.
A hint of gloom surfaced in the quiet dark eyes, yet his face remained expressionless.
Upon hearing this, Long Chengyu simply shifted his gaze and quietly watched him—
It had been a few years since he had seen him, and his younger cousin had grown increasingly silent and stern. Long Ziheng had always been a man of few words, and although they had been quite close for a while in their childhood, over time, that closeness had faded.
Later, after he left the family home, the meetings between them became scarce.
Long Zilin and Long Ziqi, the siblings, chose to stay at home, but even so, Long Ziheng didn't grow close to them.
