Yan Jingting had remained silent, and Chu Zhiyi, somewhat out of breath, didn't dare to lift her head to look at him.
After an unknown length of time, Yan Jingting's calm voice broke the silence, "Why did you suddenly make this decision?"
Chu Zhiyi fiddled with the secret buckle on her bag, her knuckles white with effort, "I just want to sleep in a little longer."
"Are you sure?"
Chu Zhiyi's heart trembled slightly as she felt the oppressive gaze from Yan Jingting; she pursed her lips and nodded emphatically.
Chu Zhiyi dared not look at Yan Jingting and turned to run into the room.
Yan Jingting stood in the doorway, his brows deeply furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line, a chill emanating from his body.
Chu Zhiyi, now inside the room, gasped for air, her heart still racing.
The anger radiating from Yan Jingting just now had been so intense that she felt speaking another word might have killed her on the spot.
