Shang Yu's appearance, after all, was probably to be expected.
As Wen Shi knelt on the ground, despite his undignified state, a strong hatred burst forth from his blood-red eyes.
The circling helicopter stirred up a sky full of yellow sand, and within the hazy cloud of dust and smoke that rose up, the only scenery was the sight of the embracing man and woman.
Footsteps approached from afar, as Yun Lih, still in his grey shirt and dress pants, his tall stature and long legs lending him an exceptional aura, strode past the group of black-clad men who didn't dare to make a move, squinted at the helicopter overhead, and, running his hand through the hair on his forehead, spoke irritably, "Shang Shaoyan, hurry up and let the chopper take off, I can barely keep my damn eyes open."
Yun Lih's voice was thinned by the cutting wind under the rotors overhead, yet it was heard by both Li Qiao and Shang Yu.