"Little baby, I finally got you in my arms." Zhao Fu was about to bury his head in her shoulder when he suddenly felt a chill on his neck. He immediately dared not move.
Something had pierced his throat, causing fresh blood to flow uncontrollably from his body.
Pain hit his brain first, prompting him to instantly retract the hand he had placed on the girl. He raised both hands in surrender.
Mei Shu, holding a blade, walked slowly forward, forcing him to step back continuously until his back touched the slippery wall. She halted her steps, saying, "I told you, I came to talk to you. If you listen to me and answer my questions truthfully, I'll let you go. But if you dare lie, I'll cut your flesh into pieces, cook it into a soup, and make you drink it. Do you understand?"
"I understand, I understand!" Zhao Fu lowered his head, feeling the blade moving forward, and the blood on his neck flowed even harder. It had slid down his chest and reached his violently heaving abdomen.
