Every Second Was Torture

For some reason, this man's body seemed to be as solid as a rock, making Diya want to lean on him.

Perhaps it was because she was unfortunate enough to become the laughingstock of everyone today, or perhaps it was because the darkness not only magnified her fear, but also made her wary of others to the lowest point.

Diya silently raised her head. In the darkness, even the outline of the other party could not be distinguished clearly.

Was this man not afraid at all?

He did not scream or tremble, as if nothing had happened at that moment.

But why did she feel that every second felt like a year?

Every second that passed was torture?

But now that she was leaning against Ming Ye, Diya felt that the panic in her heart was slightly suppressed.

Diya cleared her throat and asked Ming Ye carefully.

"Hey, you? Aren't you afraid?"

Diya was used to being arrogant, so her tone was relatively gentle.