Immediately after the words left Stacy's mouth, the sound of Mr. Qin's footsteps stopped abruptly. The silence that followed was suffocating, as if the very air around them had thickened.
Stacy's heart pounded in her chest, the weight of her impulsive question settling in like a heavy stone in her stomach. She could almost feel the ground beneath her feet tremble, and for a fleeting moment, she wished it would open up and swallow her whole.
What had she been thinking? Would he be angry? Would he hate her for prying into his personal life?
But what was worse than the thought of being reprimanded was the gnawing realization that she had wanted to ask that question.
She wasn't sure why, but something inside her—something she couldn't quite understand—was driving her to know more about him, to peel back the layers of the enigmatic Mr. Qin.
