"Ring, ring, ring." A sudden sound burst into existence, a monotonous ringtone that no one else but Weisheng Yueren would use.
"..."
Chuckle.
Weisheng Yueren suddenly felt an urge to cough up blood, the perfect curvature of his lips stiffening, his eyes instantly darkening as if brewing a violent storm.
Slowly exhaling a breath clouded with frustration, Weisheng Yueren's fingers gripping the phone turned somewhat pale from the lack of blood flow, almost crushing the phone, emitting creaking noises. His gaze fixated on the series of numbers, quickly piecing together a familiar name.
Pfft.
"Hahaha." Qinghe's muddled brain snapped back to clarity, not afraid of the ominous aura he projected at all, laughing uproariously without giving face.
"Oh my god, Yueren, you're just too cute." Tears began to overflow from the corners of Qinghe's eyes, don't be mistaken, they were not from sadness, but from laughter, and while she laughed, she fearlessly spoke.
