His neck swelled red with anger, suppressing his emotions, but ultimately he shouted hoarsely: "You saw through everything! How can I continue pretending? Keep pretending! Wouldn't I be the most ridiculous fool then?"
As if releasing pent-up frustration from his chest, the taut string in Meng Zifei's heart completely snapped.
He seemed broken, collapsing onto the ground, his gaze empty and bewildered.
He murmured: "Don't you have any questions to ask?"
Baili An quietly watched Meng Zifei, who sat in the snow in a sorry state, his gaze deep and serene. He pressed his lips together and slowly spoke: "Young Master Meng, when we met on the street, was it by chance or intent?"
Meng Zifei chuckled self-deprecatingly, looking earnestly at Baili An: "I truly wanted to befriend you, Brother Baili, but later..."
His gaze suddenly scattered, then focused like light, as he clutched his chest painfully and struggled: "Later, the Young Master of the Ghost Sect actively sought me out."
