Lin Nianhe "wrote" down the last stroke, wiped the blade clean with the scrap of cloth hanging on Yang Jiawen's arm, and said to Zhou Laosi, "Dump him at the hospital entrance."
"Alright."
Yang Jiawen had already fainted, not sure if it was from pain or fear, or maybe he was faking it.
Lin Nianhe didn't bother with him any further, put money for two bowls of wontons on the stall table, and said to Shen Hongzun, "Have you eaten enough? Let's head back to the hotel."
Shen Hongzun hadn't touched his bowl of wontons. He just stared blankly at Lin Nianhe, mouth agape, clueless about what he was thinking.
Lin Nianhe asked with a smile, "Not full? Want another bowl?"
Shen Hongzun blinked and suddenly picked up his bowl, gulping down the wontons.
Indeed, gulping. He didn't even chew, almost choking himself to death.
Lin Nianhe: "..."
He wasn't scared by himself, was he?
Of course, Shen Hongzun was frightened.
