The young boy was very pale and looked somewhat frail. At this moment, his silver-gray, choppy hair softly fell across his forehead, giving him a pitiable, scared appearance. His eyes, wide from fright, were black and shiny, reminiscent of a small animal caught off guard, staring blankly at his phone screen for a couple of seconds.
He weakly waved his hand at them to indicate that he was going to take a phone call.
As he walked into the bathroom, the members of the team all let out a collective sigh of relief.
Manager Jiang, the team manager, sighed and rubbed his temples with a headache.
"Normally the most carefree among us, when scared, he's beyond persuasion."
"I never knew Brother Meng was so scared of ghosts," Ying Wan, the top laner, said, nodding his head with lingering fear. "Had I known, I would never have scared him before."
The few who didn't understand what Tang Meng had gone through in the past year appeared rather worried.
