The car's insulation was excellent, naturally preventing any sound of Ming Yao chasing and shouting from the back from being heard.
However, the driver did catch a glimpse of Ming Yao; he looked through the rearview mirror at the man in the backseat reviewing documents and hesitated about whether or not to alert him.
But the man's aura was indeed too cold and powerful; the words that reached the driver's lips were swallowed back down.
Ming Yao chased for a long stretch of road, only to watch helplessly as the car drove away.
Standing by the roadside, gazing at the bustling, glittering city, she felt as though she had fallen into an ice cellar.
Her entire body was engulfed in boundless cold.
Was the person in the car really him?
Over the past month, sometimes she'd spot someone on the street with a similar silhouette to his; she'd recklessly bolt from her car to chase after them, but each time she caught up, she was met with disappointment.
