Ke Yuchun
He had made it to the doorstep fueled entirely by sheer indignation.
The anger he’d been brewing for three hours on the flight was now pounding against his temples. He raised his hand and knocked on the door. Three times. The force was heavier than he’d intended.
The moment the lock turned, he ran through his opening line one last time in his head. He was going to confront them. He was going to make them realize what happens when you cross the line. His phone was clutched in his hand, the red exclamation mark on the screen still glaringly bright.
The door opened.
He opened his mouth: "Do you have any idea who I—"
The sound stopped abruptly.
His hand, clutching the phone, froze in mid-air. Every word of the lines he’d prepared was still in his mouth, but he suddenly lost any reason to let them out. Time seemed to be choked, each second stretching out to last an eternity...Please log in to continue the conversation.