A single word from the dragon's mouth had Hu Lijing bowing his head in utter shame as the sinister tendrils of guilt, self-loathing and fear curled in his guts, swirling and expanding as they claws at his chest, the suffocating feeling of it making it hard for him to breath as he curled into himself, hugging his body as he looked at his lap.
The silence — thick and tense — that followed Long ZhenHai's disbelieving and hushed question was deafening in Hu Lijing's ears, the tightness in his chest made him choke as his throat constricted as if an invisible hand was wrapped around his neck and viciously choking him.
For a moment, Hu Lijing didn't know what to do. His sluggish mind raced in a desperate struggle as the wheels in it turned, the organ trying its hardest to make the nine-tailed fox breathe properly.
To no avail.
