In this frozen air.
Qin Yang slowly withdrew his hand, as if he had only done a trivial matter.
He didn't even glance at Sun Wu, who was lying on the ground, barely breathing.
His gaze fell once again on Sun Yu, who was already terrified and pale.
His eyes remained calm, yet carried a chilling coldness that could freeze one's soul.
"Now,"
Qin Yang's voice rang out again, breaking the suffocating silence and clearly reaching everyone's ears.
"Do you think kneeling down and kowtowing to admit your mistake is a better option?"
Qin Yang's voice wasn't loud; it could even be described as calm. But in this deathly silent environment, it was like a thunderclap, resounding deep within everyone's soul.
That calm tone, devoid of any warmth or human touch, contained an undeniable authority, as if a god from the heavens were conducting the final judgment on an ant.
Sun Yu was trembling violently, his teeth chattering uncontrollably.
He wanted to speak, to beg for mercy, to say something to break the suffocating fear, but his throat felt like it was being tightly gripped by an invisible hand, and he couldn't utter a single sound.
Sweat poured out of his forehead, temples, and back like streams, instantly soaking his clothes.
His mind went blank. Qin Yang's indifferent gaze was like two invisible icicles, piercing his soul and shattering all his pride, dignity, and ridiculous reliance.
Kneel down, kowtow, and admit your mistake?
The thought swirled wildly in his mind like a curse.
Humiliation, an unprecedented sense of humiliation, gnawed at his heart like a venomous snake.
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