Wan Donglin was still polite, "Then I'll have to trouble Mr. Huang."
Huang's father stepped outside, only to see his son leaning against the wall.
He was taken aback. "Xiaojue, when did you get here?"
Huang Xiaojue remained silent.
Seeing the pallor on his son's face, his heart was filled with immense pity. Yet, what could he say?
Mr. Huang didn't feel right asking anything more. "Well, I'll be heading back then."
Huang Xiaojue just nodded.
Only Huang Xiaojue and Wan Donglin were left.
Finally, their gazes met.
This was their first meeting since the major confrontation during the Spring Festival.
Huang Xiaojue stared at him fiercely, his eyes almost spitting fire. This guy who always seemed to enjoy creating chaos! He never missed an opportunity—his shadow would appear everywhere, just like Lord Voldemort, ready to strike at any moment.
However, Wan Donglin was completely unfazed. In his mind, Huang Xiaojue was the real Voldemort, the one who always staged a comeback.
