Jiao Liangchen, observing the fleeting shadow of unease that crossed Sian's face, felt a surge of compassion. His brow furrowed slightly, and his lips pressed together as if holding back unspoken worries. With a voice as soft as a whispering breeze, he leaned in slightly and said, "If something is troubling you, I can help."
So don't wear that kind of expression on your face. He didn't voice the latter part of his sentence, only saying it in his heart.
Sian lifted his gaze, scrutinizing the man standing before him. It wasn't that he needed the other's help—he didn't want to ask for it. But he was curious. Why was this man offering assistance? Hadn't they just met two days ago? Were all the people working in the military and intelligence services of this country this kindhearted?
"It's fine. I don't need any help. In fact, this matter has nothing to do with me." Sian sighed, answering the man after clearing his thoughts.
