Seeing Lin Yue's expression grow uglier by the moment, Qi Yun knew that if Zhao Wenzheng kept talking, something might truly happen. She hurriedly interrupted, "All right, it's getting late. Junior Brother Lin is still injured. We should let him rest and recover. Let's head back. We'll visit you another time."
As she spoke, she gave Xu Hong a meaningful look.
Xu Hong hurriedly stood as well. "Right, right. Rest up, Junior Brother Lin. We'll come back another day."
Zhao Wenzheng wanted to say more, but Qi Yun silenced him with a look. He could only shut his mouth in chagrin and rise with them.
The three bid Lin Yue farewell and quickly left the room.
The door closed softly behind them, and silence returned to the room.
Lin Yue leaned against the headboard, his brows drawn so tightly together they seemed tied in a knot.
Zhao Wenzheng's words, his master's attitude, that missing token, and Yang Jing's astonishing progress... Countless thoughts circled through his mind, tangling his heart into a snarl.
Jealousy, resentment, bitterness, and a trace of indescribable panic intertwined, leaving his chest feeling painfully clogged.
Time slipped away silently like sand between the fingers. In the blink of an eye, two months had passed.
The winds of Yuhe County gradually blew away the shock of Shen Lie's death.
The authorities had investigated for a long time, yet there was still no trace of the killer. It was as though the culprit had vanished from the face of the earth, leaving not a single useful clue.
Though the Pashan Martial Arts Hall still pursued the investigation in fits and starts, it no longer showed its initial urgency. Life had to go on, after all. The Martial Arts Hall's operations could not remain bogged down by an unsolved