Zuo Xinyao glanced at Jiang Nanfei, covered in blood, and still felt his heart pound with fear. After all, he had served in the military and had seen bloodshed. But the sight of Jiang Zhuanzhuan's wounds had startled him.
He had seen people commit suicide, but never with a knife that had a blood groove.
Huo Kewei, agitated by Zuo Xinyao's words, was walking back and forth in frustration. But now was not the time to lose his temper. Unable to hold back any longer, he crouched down in front of Nan Fei again and asked cautiously, "Little aunty, how are you? My little uncle isn't here; you must take good care of yourself!"
Right now, he wasn't afraid of anything, except for something happening to his little aunty. As for whether Jiang Zhuanzhuan was alive or dead, it had nothing to do with him.
"I'm fine," Nan Fei suddenly looked up, her clear eyes incredibly calm.
Under the gaze of her eyes, Huo Kewei even shivered.
Little aunty did not look like someone who was fine.
