The person's hand seemed to be fixed in mid-air; no matter how hard he struggled, it didn't budge an inch.
Feeling humiliated, his face turned beet red as he glared angrily at the one holding him and growled threateningly, "Cripple, let me go!"
Chu Liangxia's grip on the umbrella handle tightened, and then her gaze followed the man's to its target.
Feng Ziheng had appeared beside her without her noticing.
He wasn't holding an umbrella, just a walking cane.
The rain was coming down heavily, soaking his shirt and rendering the white even more saturated, as deeply as his breath.
His face was expressionless, with the streetlight casting shadows that made his facial lines appear more resolute and sharp, water droplets sliding down his cheek one by one, some trailing down over his Adam's apple, adding an inexplicable sexiness amidst the cold danger.
As the man roared in a fury, Feng Ziheng ramped up the force without a change in expression.
