As he slowly exhaled, the hand resting on the armrest suddenly clenched tight!
Veins bulged along Zuo Qing's arm, spreading across his chest, neck, and cheeks... Every muscle in his body tensed, his brows knotted tightly together. Endless agony surged from the depths of his soul, twisting the face of the man reclining in the chair into one of pain and savagery.
Beads of sweat the size of soybeans slid down his cheeks, gradually spreading into a damp stain across the aged floorboards. Even so, Zuo Qing clenched his teeth and refused to make a sound. Only his rapid, ragged breathing echoed through the office.
In the adjoining room behind the office, Jiang Ziya, who had been about to place a stone on the board, suddenly froze with his fingers suspended in midair.
Jiang Ziya let out a long sigh.
Pinching the chess piece between his fingers, he steadily placed it upon the board. Black and white stones were already intertwined across it, each occupying half the battlefield.
Time passed second by second. About half an hour later, the labored breathing finally began to steady.
Zuo Qing lay limp in his chair like mud, his face deathly pale and his expression indescribably exhausted. After resting there for several minutes, he shakily stretched out a hand and grasped the teacup at the corner of the desk.
Taking deep breaths, he raised the cup to his cracked lips, only to discover that it had long since run dry. Just a few shriveled tea leaves lay scattered across the bottom.
He sighed helplessly and was about to stand when a figure slowly approached him.
Carrying a steaming teapot, Jiang Ziya took the cup from Zuo Qing's hand. Scalding water washed over the tea leaves at the bottom, releasing a refreshing fragrance.
"Thank you."