Jii Chunjue had accumulated a massive debt from high-interest loans and was hiding everywhere. There was no place for him in the city center, so out of desperation, he had to hide here.
Ye Xingbei looked at the ubiquitous sewage ditches and garbage piles and said, "He truly got what he deserved."
Yue Yaer smirked, "Yes."
She stepped towards the underpass where Jii Chunjue had taken refuge.
Her every step was very slow.
Both her heart and legs felt heavy, as if filled with lead.
She had been waiting for this moment for a very, very long time.
It seemed as if from the night her mother died, she had been living for this very moment.
Every time she recalled the scene of her mother lying in a pool of blood, it was as if a dull knife was slicing at her heart, one cut at a time.
The hatred for Jii Chunjue was like a poison that bore into her bones.
Over the years, it had only grown, never diminished.
