The air gradually became damp.
A drop of rain fell on Fu Yanhe's pale hand.
One drop followed by another, the rain began to intensify.
Fu Yanhe slowed down the speed of the wheelchair more and more until he finally came to a complete stop.
He blended in perfectly with the night.
The sudden flash of lightning in the sky illuminated Fu Yanhe's current appearance.
In the pouring rain, he lowered his gaze, the extremely dark pupils filled with thick mist, his pale eyelids tinged with a trace of red, hostility surging between his brows and eyes.
Like a wolf wounded in the rainy night, silently licking its wounds.
"Fu Yanhe!"
The clear female voice pierced through the darkness and reached his ears.
Fu Yanhe's cold white and strong fingers resting on the armrest of the wheelchair twitched slightly.
He slowly raised his head and saw a light coming on not far away.
The light grew closer and closer.
