These marks can only be left after holding a gun for a long time; they are not something an ordinary person could have.

Shen Zhihuan's heart skipped a beat, and a very ominous premonition arose inexplicably.

At this moment, the man noticed her gaze and looked over with his eyes darting around.

The two stared at each other unexpectedly. Shen Zhihuan felt as if someone had grabbed her throat, her breath caught in her throat, and she almost lost control of the expression on her face.

Walking beside her, Song Xunying quickly noticed her unusual behavior and asked with some confusion:

"What's wrong, Miss Shen? Your expression looks a little strange."

Shen Zhihuan clenched her fingers instantly, her short, trimmed nails digging into her palms. They didn't cut her palms, but they still caused a strong stinging sensation.

She forced herself to stay rational despite the pain, managed a nonchalant smile, and shook her head slightly.

"It's nothing. I just suddenly realized that I forgot to bring something for my masters. I'm in a rush today and don't have time to go home to get it. I'll bring it to them another day."

"Oh, is that so?"

Song Xunying didn't think much of it and continued walking forward with her.

After turning the corner of the stairs and leaving the man far behind, Shen Zhihuan's tense emotions seemed to collapse instantly.

She kept her hands clenched, but her body trembled slightly uncontrollably, and a burning pain shot through her neck.

This pain wasn't because she had accidentally hurt herself, but rather it came from the depths of her memory.

Shen Zhihuan raised her hand and gently supported her slender neck. Even though two lifetimes had passed, she still clearly remembered the feeling of being choked tightly by the neck.