"Here, I've already given you the autograph you wanted." Huai Shi patted his shoulder. "Go and report in later yourself." He withdrew the Source Substance virus and reminded him earnestly, "Remember to buy handshake tickets next time. Invasive fans and freeloaders are unacceptable. You must have a sense of shame, understand?"
Ignoring the restrained, chilly glares from all around the hall, Huai Shi casually raised his hand and gestured with his middle finger toward the second floor.
Unexpectedly, the Death Perception, which had pricked him like thorns in his back, vanished in an instant.
He heard a soft cough from beside him.
It was a young man with a guide cane—Cui Ping, the Good Samaritan who had once given Huai Shi a ride.
He smiled gently. "Mr. Huai, may I have a chat with you?"
Huai Shi thought for a moment, then shook his head. "To be honest, it's better if you don't know me, especially if you knew what I was here for today..."
