His movements were slow, but every step was like the thrilling scenes of a Hollywood blockbuster. He couldn't turn his eyes, nor could he blink, for fear of missing any crucial action along the way.
Zhuang's face showed a strange expression. Then he looked at his finger, injured by shards of glass. A self-deprecating look appeared on his face.
"I remember I should have had you remind me, Fanghai never allows interesting people to exist."
"It seems you've forgotten who I am, since you haven't seen anyone in a long time."
Thus, Zhuang Wen's eyes already seemed dead, as usual, looking at his face. He often conversed with friends around him, and lived with Ye Feng's voice. His eyes suddenly opened wide for the kill, something he'd never experienced before.
The last time he saw such light, the person who hated him was burning in the fire. This time, he was prepared to cut down the person in front with a thousand knives.
