Tian Tao stared at Feng Mu's face, which alternated between sinister and gentle expressions. Perhaps because he felt guilty, he suddenly found that face eerie and unnerving.
"His expressions changed so quickly, as if his face is a mask that can be kneaded at will. Screw that."
Tian Tao cursed inwardly, unwilling to admit his inner unease, his expression growing increasingly ferocious and angry.
But not towards Feng Mu. Instead, he suddenly erupted, grabbing Wang Cong by the collar. The action was as rough as yanking a dog's leash, dragging him outside without any explanation.
As he walked out, he roared obscenities:
"Hurry up and clean the cremation room, this bloody, filthy corpse. Who's it here for? Damn it, I've lost my appetite for the night."
Wang Cong was actually no longer afraid of Tian Tao, but he still obediently allowed himself to be dragged out. This was because he really didn't want to be in the same room as Feng Mu for even a second longer.
