The hand still extended the paper.
Pei Ye, however, said nothing at this moment, nor did he stop him further. As the man watched him, he too quietly observed the man.
Xu Menglang looked up at the woman in confusion, amidst the oppressive and uneasy atmosphere, his bewilderment and panic almost visibly manifest. He raised his hand, seemingly already subconsciously prepared to take the paper, but his lips quivered first, murmuring, "Pei, Young Master Pei... he spoke without thinking..."
Pei Ye slightly stalled, and Lu Xiu's expression also paused for a moment before turning icy cold. Then he withdrew and left.
Xu Menglang stood there stiffly, his mind in turmoil, gripped by a panic of falling and the surreal feeling of seeing years of aspirations disappear in an instant.
His face pallid, he looked towards the youth, whose fine brows and gentle eyes were now filled with confusion; loose wisps of hair gently fell down around his face.