Yu Qiuchi pulled his hand away, stepped aside, and walked into the house: "Brother Yu, when did I fall asleep?"

He turned on his phone and found it still had two bars of battery. He opened WeChat, and a large red exclamation mark told him that there was no signal here.

Song Yaozhuo seemed unconcerned about Yu Qiuchi's evasion. He took Yu Qiuchi's phone, which still had two batteries, and said calmly, "This is an isolated island. Here, apart from me, we can't contact the outside world."

Yu Qiuchi looked at the phone that Song Yaozhuo had turned off, then looked up at Song Yaozhuo's still calm and expressionless face, and swallowed hard: "So, Brother Yu, I can't be right, can I? You, you're going to dismember me and then dump my body in the wilderness."

"Couldn't it be imprisonment?" Song Yaozhuo casually tossed Yu Qiuchi's phone onto the bed. The phone bounced twice on the bed, and Yu Qiuchi's heart trembled twice.

Yu Qiuchi admitted that his CPU had overheated. He looked around and saw the surveillance footage before he calmed down.

“Oh, that was specially made for me.” Song Yaozhuo followed Yu Qiuchi’s gaze to the surveillance camera on the ceiling. He walked to the bedside, pulled out a drawer, and emptied the contents onto the bed, the metal making a clanging sound.

Yu Qiuchi looked over and saw chains and a bunch of unidentified things.

"Imprisonment is not as good as killing me," Yu Qiuchi negotiated.

"Hmm, I prefer someone lively." The voice was indifferent: "However, dying in bed wouldn't be bad either."

A cold yet burning gaze swept over Yu Qiuchi's body, then lingered on the soft bed with an ambiguous expression.

Yu Qiuchi felt that this move might have gone too far.