[ His breath audibly hitches, face reddening. Shang Qinghua doesn't know where to look right now, but he's pretty sure he'd lose his nerve if he looks either down at his lap or at Nie Huaisang, so he keeps his gaze fixed on the television screen.
Contrary to the words, he finds he's gone tense. He swallows thickly, and though forcing himself to try to relax isn't working particularly well, he nods regardless. Yes, he's wound up... but he's alright, so far. It's unfamiliar, but not bad. And he trusts Nie Huaisang with at least this much. ]
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Contrary to the words, he finds he's gone tense. He swallows thickly, and though forcing himself to try to relax isn't working particularly well, he nods regardless. Yes, he's wound up... but he's alright, so far. It's unfamiliar, but not bad. And he trusts Nie Huaisang with at least this much. ]