“Don’t touch it!”


    Gu Yunru’s hand was interrupted by his stern rebuke before it could touch the red-tassel gun.


    “I won’t touch it, but do you have a hobby of collecting antiques?” she said, backing away.


    On the left was a large shelf not filled with books, but with many old utensils like celadon vases, covered in layers of dust. Gu Yunru made a face and pinched her nose, feeling disgusted.


    At some point, Rong Zhen had gotten off the bed and now stood behind her like a ghost.


    “What’s wrong?” she asked, noticing the sudden change in his gaze.


    His eyes were fixed on the oval bottle with dragon carvings on the shelf. The ancient patterns on it were exquisite, but what he did next stunned Gu Yunru.


    He picked up the bottle and smashed it to the ground. The immense anger in his icy gaze seemed as though he was going to devour someone.


    Perhaps it was due to his rage, but Rong Zhen coughed up blood and nearly collapsed.