Leng Youchen released her hand, his calm face hiding a touch of sternness, and he silently wheeled the chair away.
Wei Anning watched his retreating figure. Leng Youchen was angry, feeling more terrifying than the hurricane from last night. Should she follow him or leave? She hesitated for half a second, then jogged to catch up.
Behind her, Leng Yanbo's body stiffened, his usual indifference and laziness nowhere to be seen, his complexion ominously dark.
Wei Anning jogged behind the wheelchair which was moving quickly. She was panting and wanted to ask him to slow down; she could barely keep up. But seeing his face calm like still water and the air around him oppressively eerie, she didn't dare to speak.
Finally, Leng Youchen stopped.
Wei Anning, gasping for breath, looked up to see they had reached the living room. She heaved a huge sigh of relief, thankful she no longer had to chase after him desperately.
