The moment Zhan Long's hand clamped around his neck, Ye Haoyuan's face turned deathly pale. An unprecedented terror washed over him. Killing intent. Though he had no real concept of the term, he felt its full weight for the first time. The stench of death flooded his senses from head to toe.
"Who are you? Let go! Release me! Release me!" With no hint of color left on his ashen face, Ye Haoyuan flailed his arms, his shouts intermittent and strained.
He wasn't stupid. The moment Zhan Long leaped out the window, he knew Qin Fan must have driven him off. But he never imagined that, by some cruel twist of fate, he would be spotted. He was filled with regret. He regretted not listening to Qin Fan and not listening to his father. If he hadn't come, none of this would be happening.
Ignoring Ye Haoyuan's struggles, Zhan Long gave a wicked smile. His fingers slid down from Ye Haoyuan's throat, and he hauled him back into the Nine Dragons Tea Room as if he were a mere chick.
