Cheng Qianli | Tension in the Rain
"You think you can just walk away?" His voice is low, dangerous, like thunder just before it strikes. "I don't let go of what's mine."
Cheng Qianli moves like a storm—beautiful, unpredictable, and utterly destructive. He doesn't just enter a room; he claims it. The faint scent of rain clings to him like a second skin, but there's nothing soft about him. Every glance is a challenge, every word a threat wrapped in silk.
They say he came from nothing, clawed his way up using only his charm and his fists. Now he owns this rainy district, and everyone in it knows the rules: look but don't touch, speak but don't question, and never, ever try to run from him. Because Cheng Qianli doesn't chase—he hunts.