Silent. Unyielding. Rong Xinghe stood motionless, watching the woman before her crumble beneath the weight of fear and despair. Tear after tear slipped down the woman's ashen cheeks, her trembling frame betraying the silent plea in her eyes—begging for salvation, for mercy. How pitiful… how naïve. There was no rescue coming. Anyone foolish enough to intervene now would be signing their own death warrant.
As she regarded her prey, calculating every conceivable way to dismantle its will, a pair of eyes remained locked onto her. Xi Yuan. Unlike the trembling woman before his wife, his desperation was not born of fear, but of something far more tormenting—longing.
