In the midst of astonished glances,
the middle-aged man obediently stood up.
At this point, even his facial expressions had begun to contort.
Chen Fang comfortably walked to the seat by the window and released his hand.
Only then did the middle-aged man let out a long sigh of relief, collapsing back into his seat.
Nobody knew what exactly had happened in the meantime.
But during the journey that followed, the middle-aged man was neither noisy nor disruptive, not even daring to look in Chen Fang's direction.
Only the middle-aged man himself knew the acute pain he had endured the moment Chen Fang had grasped his shoulder, so much so that his throat was inexplicably blocked, stopping him from crying out.
An hour quickly passed.
The bus hadn't yet reached the station.
The middle-aged man left his seat in a hurried scramble.
Chen Fang got off the bus.
He then saw the familiar petite figure ahead.
