Blood dripped onto the threshold,
but the blood did not flow from the abdomen; it was from Luo Di's hand.
Everyone was as usual, relieving his vigilance. Family, as his most dependable haven, made him completely lower his guard.
However,
a vigilance etched in his bones, engraved in his soul, kept him on alert no matter the environment.
The moment the door opened, a blade pierced through.
Instinctively, Luo Di grabbed the knife, and his already cut palm suffered a second gash. The tip slightly pierced his abdomen, yet avoided the vital organs.
This wasn't the usual household Chinese chopper, but a chef's knife with a sharp blade.
Luo Di remembered clearly, the family never owned such a knife. It's likely they bought it specifically to kill him.
The person holding the knife was none other than his mother.
"Luo Di, you're quick to react. I was hoping to see you agonized."
Her voice had barely fallen,
