Saliva flowed uncontrollably from the corners of his mouth, mixed with incoherent roars filled with filth and curses:
"Get out! Get out! Devil! Qin Yuheng! You are a devil! Ning Xiwan! Bitch! You all will die miserably! Ahhhh! Let me go! Kill me! Kill me!"
"Photos! Photos! They're fake! They're all fake! Qin Yuzheng... you're crazy! You're all crazy! You'll die a horrible death! You'll die a horrible death! Hahaha... Woo..."
Her struggle was in vain, her body nailed to the chair by the drugs and her own weak physical strength.
Crazy roars and delirious curses echoed in the empty room, filled with creepy despair and madness.
Tears, snot and saliva covered her withered face, completely distorting her remaining human form.
Outside the glass wall, Qin Yuheng watched her hysterical performance quietly.
His face remained emotionless, not even a frown on his face. Those beautiful phoenix eyes held a pure, condescending indifference.
It was like watching a shoddy play with a known ending and no originality.
He even tilted his head slightly, as if trying to discern whether there were any interesting words worth wasting his time hidden in her vague curses.
Ning Yunmeng struggled and screamed for a long time, her strength finally exhausted. She collapsed into the chair like a pool of completely melted mud, gasping for breath, her chest heaving violently.
Her eyes blurred again, leaving only a blank blankness and tears streaming down her face. The trembling in her right leg became even more intense, like a never-ending death knell.
Qin Yuheng seemed to have finally seen enough. He withdrew his gaze, no longer looking at the filthy, hopeless "wreckage" behind the glass wall, as if looking at it any longer would be a desecration of his time.
He turned to the dean, his voice calm and emotionless, yet with an unquestionable sense of command: "Maintain the status quo. I don't want to hear any 'unexpected' news." His eyes swept over the dean, "Living 'peacefully' is her only value. Do you understand?"
"I understand! I understand! Don't worry, Mr. Qin! We will strictly follow your instructions!" The dean bowed hurriedly to assure, with fine beads of cold sweat oozing from his forehead.
Qin Yuheng said no more, turned around, and walked out along the way he came with steady and elegant steps.
The leather shoes stepped on the smooth and cold floor tiles, making a clear and monotonous "knock, knock" sound, which echoed in the empty and depressing corridor, as if to sound the final ending of this tragedy that had long ended.
The director and the nurse quickly followed, and respectfully escorted this evil spirit who controlled life and death out of the august building.
Sitting back in the warm and comfortable back seat of the Bentley Bentayga, Qin Yuheng did not immediately tell the driver to drive. He just leaned back and relaxed on the leather seat, closing his eyes slightly.
The light from outside the car window passed through the dark car film, casting flickering light and shadows on his handsome face.
The absolute indifference in the observation room just now has faded, replaced by an almost lazy calmness, and even a barely perceptible sense of ease?
He pulled out his phone, his slender fingers moving quickly across the screen. Instead of opening the address book, he clicked directly on a pinned encrypted communication window marked with a simple ampersand (&).
He pulled up his phone's photo album. Inside were the photos he had taken just now outside the one-way glass wall—clear images of Ning Yunmeng, withered and desperate, screaming madly, and finally collapsing like mud.
Each one captures the utter destruction and despair in exquisite detail.
Qin Yuheng's fingertips slid across the screen, and a very faint and cold arc appeared at the corner of his lips.
He carefully selected the most impactful one - a close-up of Ning Yunmeng's face twisted and distorted by fear and resentment, a scarlet and distorted light bursting out of those empty, dry eyes, saliva all over her chin, and her skinny fingers convulsively scratching the armrest.
He sent the photo without any hesitation, without attaching any caption.
The prompt tone of successful sending sounded in the silent carriage.
Qin Yuheng casually threw his cell phone on the seat beside him and completely relaxed his body, as if he had completed an extremely important ritual.
He turned his head and looked out the window.
The formidable walls of the sanatorium gradually receded and shrank from view. The sky remained gloomy, with leaden clouds hanging heavy over the barren mountains and forests.
The outline of the city in the distance is vaguely visible in the late winter mist, like a mirage.
The engine emitted a low hum, and the black Bentley drove smoothly like an arrow from a bow, leaving this cold land that buried ambition and madness, and heading towards the prosperous world at the foot of the mountain that was still running and still controlled by their brothers.
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