"Laugh? You can still laugh?" This laughter seemed to trigger something in Wu Jie. "You should feel pain! Regret! Fear!"
"Whoosh— Bang!"
An iron pan fell from the sky, hitting Wu Jie precisely on his head. His body swayed and then collapsed, with blood gushing from the back of his head.
Cen Lizhui got up, went forward, and kicked him lightly: "Let me see, why is there no pain, regret, or fear? He just looks confused, huh?"
Chen Muxue ran over afterward, didn't even have time to pick up the pan, and rushed straight to Xiaohua. She embraced her, then quickly let go, holding Xiaohua's shoulders: "How could you run out by yourself? Didn't I tell you that it's dangerous outside? Don't you know how worried I was?"
Xiaohua, with eyes brimming with tears, couldn't speak. She shook her head, and tears rolled down.
"I'm sorry, the Sect Leader was too anxious. It's all my fault for not taking good care of Xiaohua. Don't cry, okay?" Chen Muxue couldn't help but soften her voice.
