Dead silence filled the other end of the line, and the private dining room seemed to have been hit by a mute button. Only the heavy, drum-like pounding of Zhao Yu's heart was clearly audible in his chest.
Lin Zimo and the others exchanged glances, their inner thoughts scrolling by like a barrage of live comments:
Oh, sweet mother of mercy.
Old Zhao, I told you to throw a fastball, not to spike it straight at the ground like this!
Not even a shred of playful banter?
Chapter 268