The voice was smooth, low, and perfectly flat, yet the moment the words left Wang's lips, the air inside the bedroom instantly turned into a solid sheet of pressure.
Shen Mao's feet froze directly in mid-air. Her eyes went completely wide with a sudden, paralyzing horror as she realized Wang's crimson irises were wide open, looking directly at her through the darkness with an expression of absolute, glacial contempt.
There was no confusion in his eyes, no trace of the meditative sleep she had counted on, only the cold, calculating gaze of a predator looking at an annoying bug.
"P-Patriarch..." Shen Mao stammered, her hand trembling so violently that the pink silk ribbon slipped from her fingers, fluttering clumsily onto the cold floor. "I... I only wished to bring you some fresh mountain spring water to help soothe your... your turbulent core..."
