Ling Yan felt like he was going to die from rage. Hearing her words, he felt the pain in his wound intensify instantly. His face turned visibly paler, verging on deathly, and he gasped, "You …"
Shi Mei looked at him, and once again, his cold eyes and eyebrows as they had been before appeared in her mind.
The dark muzzle of the gun was pointed at her forehead.
A single shot had abruptly ended her life.
Shi Mei's expression was indifferent, her eyes gradually becoming clear as rationality returned, and she calmly said, "You had figured it out long ago, hadn't you."
Sweat dripped down Ling Yan's forehead and back as he almost faltered, turning to look at her upon hearing her words.
"From beginning to end, there was not a single slip in your words," Shi Mei's gaze moved past him to the mural behind his head, "I was wondering how you dared to grab my hand to stab yourself, it turns out, you were certain I wouldn't dare to kill you."
