Is he going to die?
Song Zhiqing's mind went blank, feeling the air he could breathe was becoming more sparse and increasingly difficult.
Suddenly, he felt a bit unwilling, but more than anything, he felt fear.
He didn't want to die!
Song Zhiqing suddenly began to struggle, trying to pry apart the large hands gripping his throat.
However, how could someone with limited mobility have that strength?
His strength was diminishing, his face turning purple, just as he was in despair, his neck suddenly loosened.
Song Zhiqing coughed, gasping for air like a fish, desperately inhaling, causing his chest to swell with pain.
His clothes were soaked with sweat, unsure if it was due to fear or heat.
"Third brother, do you think I wouldn't dare kill you?" Song Zhiyuan slowly pulled out a handkerchief, wiped his hand, then threw it to the ground as if he was removing dirty stuff.
