Time seemed to stop.
That gaze would have frozen on me. In my vision, the colorful scenery gradually turned into three shades: black, white, and gray. The black gaze formed two straight beams, one falling on me and the other on Chen Yihan.
Chen Yihan's figure was white, visible only as an outline. But I knew he was looking at me, silently asking what had happened.
I didn't dare speak.
Sweat ran down my forehead.
With just a thought, the other party could reduce Chen Yihan and me to ashes, just like Xu Tiancheng, leaving not even the slightest trace.
My palm suddenly grew scorching hot. The mark belonging to Ming Xite radiated the aura of death.
I didn't know whether I should feel relieved or ashamed.
The black, white, and gray scenery vanished, replaced by the colorful world of reality once more.
I saw Yao Nie, whom I had encountered not long ago.
He stood at the kitchen doorway, watching a woman cook inside.
The woman looked haggard. The house was tidy, but cramped and crowded, with very few belongings. She'd made a simple meal: a small pot of rice, one dish, and one soup. She didn't take it to the living room, but stood in the kitchen and ate by the stove. She finished quickly, showing no enjoyment of the food, as if she were merely completing a task. Then she tidied up and cleaned in the same perfunctory manner.
She picked up a small, greasy plastic bag full of garbage and headed out.
Yao Nie stepped aside, stretched, and followed her.
The woman went outside to throw away the garbage.
Yao Nie continued toward the neighborhood exit, apparently with no intention of staying.
The woman seemed unable to see him at all and turned back on her