Xie Han stared blankly at Yang Qing, almost as if he had been petrified. For a few seconds, he didn't move a single muscle—not even to breathe or blink. Then, slowly, his expression thawed as some life returned to his face.
"I can leave?" he asked in disbelief, blinking rapidly as he continued to stare at Yang Qing.
"Yes, you can," Yang Qing replied patiently as he rose from his squatting position.
"I can leave?" Though it sounded like a simple repetition of the question, the way Xie Han said it—along with the look on his face—made it seem more like he was asking himself rather than Yang Qing.
He had already prepared himself to be tortured, sealed, or subjected to some other heinous method that, while sparing his life, would have all but guaranteed he couldn't serve as a witness to the day's events.
"You're not going to silence me, or erase my memories, or place some restriction on me to stop me from speaking out?" asked Xie Han, as he gave voice to his fears.
