"Fuck…" a muffled curse slipped through Song Zhuyu's gritted teeth, his breathing growing labored. Veins flared out along his neck and arms as he raised his heavy-lidded gaze toward the man before him, who was stunned silly upon hearing the warning he had thrown out. He couldn't help but let out a breathy chuckle.
Despite the tension coursing through his entire body, his grip on Rui Ye's wrist remained gentle yet firm as he instructed, "Let go of your hand slowly… that's right, good boy…"
