Zhao Qianqian squatted next to Jing Aixiang and tried to pinch his philtrum, no use. Then she pressed hard on his temples — still no use. After some thought, she started massaging various points on his head... Finally, she sighed helplessly; she would have to wait for Luo Ye to return. That guy had taken the syringe away and immobilized the squinty-eyed man. She couldn't ask, couldn't see, so could only stick around and watch.
"Angry?" Zhao Qianqian knocked the empty handgun on the squinty-eyed man's cheek out of boredom. "Forgot how arrogant you were with the loudspeaker back then?
Weren't you calm? So why's your face twitching now? I told you, pretending won't cut it, you big bad wolf..."
Panting heavily, Luo Ye ran back, listening to Zhao Qianqian's endless chatter, and helplessly rubbed his forehead: "Miss Zhao, do you know what you've been saying?"
"You're back?" The surprise flashed across Zhao Qianqian's eyes, "Are all obstacles inside cleared?" She posed lying down.
