As Zhang Deming looked at the man, he was kneeling on the ground, head bowed, trying his best to shrink into the crowd. Dominated by some unknown force, he instinctively tried to ingratiate himself.
It was an instinctual attempt to please him, lest a sudden bout of anger implicated him as well. At the same time, because he was unsure of the newcomer's background and temperament, he didn't want to stand out. This was the survival instinct of his kind.
So, while trying to curry favor, he hid himself in the crowd. But as if sensing Zhang Deming's gaze locking onto him, he trembled all over.
When no other reaction came, he lifted his head slightly and met Zhang Deming's gaze.
The moment their eyes met, he lowered his head as quick as a flash and shrank back again. However, the lack of any punishment seemed to confirm something for him. His courage grew considerably, and he was no longer trembling in fear over the sycophantic words he had just spoken.
