Shen Qingqiu’s long hair lay draped over his arm and between his fingers. Luo Binghe took hold of one of those black locks, his grip slowly clenching, and soundlessly mouthed a name over and over again. Shen Qingqiu. Shen Qingqiu. A dark and sinister curve tugged his lips upward. The silent smile on “Luo Binghe’s” face grew wider and wider. As if he’d discovered some amusing plaything, his eyes began to shine with an excitement, one that seemed to hold the slightest hint of cruelty.
