The PTA room fell silent the moment Qiu Dingjie rose from his chair.

He moved with predatory grace around the table, each step deliberate, until he stood directly behind the other father—close enough that his shadow completely engulfed the smaller man. The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees as Dingjie placed both hands on the back of the chair, effectively trapping the man.

"You have three seconds to take back what you said about my son," he whispered, his voice low and dangerous, sending shivers down everyone's spine despite the menace in his words.

The man froze, his face turning pale as he felt Dingjie's hot breath against his ear. "I-I was just stating the facts—"

"Two," Dingjie continued, ignoring the protest. His fingers tightened visibly on the chair, the wood creaking under his grip.

The teachers exchanged panicked glances but made no move to intervene—none of them wanted to be on the receiving end of that stare.

"Qiu Dingjie, don't," his wife said quietly, placing a hand on his arm in a futile attempt to calm him.

He didn't even look at her. "One."

Before anyone could react, Dingjie's hand shot forward, gripping the man's shoulder so tightly the other father yelped in pain. "My son doesn't have an aggression problem," he growled, leaning in until their faces were inches apart. "But I do. And right now, I'm barely restraining myself from breaking your arm right here in front of these witnesses."

The room remained absolutely silent as Dingjie released his grip abruptly, causing the man to slump forward in his chair, sweating profusely.