Seeing Xirong's movements, a flash of severity appeared in Shi Mingxuan's eyes as he suddenly realized the most efficient angle from which to start his pressing questions. Now that Shi Mingxuan was handcuffed, if he used this to pressure Xirong, Xirong would surely surrender.
His hand had just been resting on Xirong's shoulder, yet to move, but now he did move, reaching out again, this time to Xirong's other shoulder. His lips were so close to Xirong's ear that they were almost touching. He whispered again softly, "Aren't you speaking yet? If you don't speak up, I won't be polite anymore," and after speaking, his other hand slowly stretched toward Xirong's shirt collar.
