Wang Xiao's aura wasn't just threatening—it was a promise of death.
The kind of power that didn't need to flash a sword to send shivers down your spine.
The kind of man who could be playing with children in a park, and a single glance from him would make your blood run cold.
He could kill without ever lifting a weapon.
Even Ji Xuehong, as cold and indifferent as she was, felt a tremor of fear deep in her heart. Her breaths became shallow as she stepped closer, trying to control the nervous flutter in her chest.
She knew this feeling well—it wasn't her first time facing it.
Unfortunately, his power was something she had witnessed firsthand, and each time she saw him, the memory of his strength stirred something dark and primal in her — fear.
He was restraining himself, always holding back.
And Ji Xuehong knew that better than most.
