"Please, just trust me. As long as we work together, we'll definitely get through this."
Hearing this, the crowd's tense expressions began to soften, and looks of relief spread across their faces.
The crowd then dispersed in twos and threes, their steps much lighter than when they had arrived.
Song Qingya quietly watched their backs as they disappeared, her gaze gentle yet tinged with exhaustion.
Only when the last person had turned the corner did she slowly turn and head toward Fei Jin's office.
It was an old room, hastily cleared out for his use. She lifted the door curtain and stepped inside.
The room was dimly lit, with only a single oil lamp casting a weak, flickering glow.
Fei Jin sat behind the desk, his posture ramrod straight, but his brow was slightly furrowed with a grave expression.
Yang Kai stood to one side, shifting his feet uneasily.
The moment Song Qingya walked in, a quick glance was all it took for her to sense that something was wrong with the atmosphere.
