In front of the T2 terminal at Chengdu Airport, Mr. Su Bai stood alone without any luggage. He didn't resemble a passenger but rather a wanderer, as his eyes lacked focus and his entire demeanor exuded an air of disarray.
Unfortunately, this was an airport bustling with travelers coming and going. While quite a few men and women passing by Mr. Su Bai couldn't help but glance back at him, none of them took the initiative to approach or engage him.
Of course, it wasn't because Mr. Su Bai was strikingly handsome, but rather because some intangible aura seemed to seep out of him unknowingly. It was akin to a noble walking out of the slums—a difference in beings' levels or bloodlines, naturally creating an impression of standing out prominently amidst the crowd.
Truth be told, the death of Chu Zhao hadn't struck Mr. Su Bai too hard. Yet the implications of Chu Zhao's death, and the suffocating atmosphere that seemed to encroach upon him because of it, weighed heavily on Su Bai's mind.
