HE WAS GOING TO DIE
Yu Ming couldn't stop using his right hand to rub his right ear. For some reason, he felt his ears itching from noon until now, and that was why he pouted uncomfortably while trying to remove the uncomfortable sensation with his hand.
"Someone must be talking about me behind my back," he muttered to himself while furrowing his brows in displeasure.
Who would be happy if someone talked about them behind their back? When someone couldn't even talk directly to him and could only talk behind his back, it meant that the content of the conversation wasn't good for him, and that was why he looked unhappy right now.
"Or maybe there's someone who really misses you, Young Master Yu," a voice responded to his mumble.
Yu Ming had no intention of speaking loudly, and that was why he only whispered the question so that no one could hear it. Unfortunately, he was met with disappointment because Gong Zhaohui's ears were sharp enough to hear his whisper.