Song Qingwan was startled but then let out a sigh of relief. Across from her, Wang Ziyue ground her teeth and said coldly, "What are you, some pretty boy, meddling for? Is this your place to interfere? Get lost!"
Zhao Dong's gaze shot toward Wang Ziyue, his eyes turning glacial. Her face went pale, and her breath caught in her throat.
Zhao Dong's terrifying gaze was suffocating, as if a large hand had suddenly clamped around her throat.
His ominous voice rang out, "Watch your mouth and keep your hands to yourself. Otherwise, I won't mind crippling them."
Wang Ziyue's face turned even paler, and she began to tremble uncontrollably, her eyes filled with terror as she stared at Zhao Dong.
What kind of gaze was that? It was cold, bloodthirsty, somber, dark, hollow, pale…
Wang Ziyue swallowed hard and said with false bravado, "You… you dare threaten me?"
"So what if I do?" Zhao Dong replied indifferently.
