The tall man cursed, "How can my luck be so bad?"
"Who opened the lock?" Jiang Qingwan asked.
The tall man looked at the short man, who in turn looked at the enormous cage above him.
“It’s you. Then you should cut off your hand.” Jiang Qingwan didn’t waste any words.
The Golden Sword appeared in the void.
Its body was bathed in a golden light, which outlined its shape in the air.
Jiang Qingwan grasped the knife, used the back of the blade to break the short man's hand.
The pain didn't have time to be conveyed.
His rough, dark hands hung limply, forming an angle with his wrists that was well over 90 degrees.
"My hand, my hand!" The pain belatedly assaulted my brain.
The tall man next to him stared wide-eyed, speechless with astonishment.
Jiang Qingwan turned her head to the side and said to him, "You can't escape either. Everyone who sees this gets a share."
The back of the knife struck his wrist with a dull thud.
The sound of bones breaking is crisp and clear.
The sounds, sometimes muffled, sometimes crisp, are rhythms of varying intensity, striking the heartstrings.
"Isn't this a bit unnecessary? We just came in for a moment." The tall man said with a mournful face.
He was short, with slanted, narrow eyes filled with hatred.
Bad people have all sorts of ridiculous excuses.
"Do you want to hear what you're saying? Did you come to my house in the middle of the night just to take a look?" Jiang Qingwan shone the flashlight directly into their eyes.
"Answer me," Jiang Qingwan scoffed.
Jiang Qingwan didn't wait for a reply and continued to add her own words.
"If I hadn't been more alert and, by chance, more capable, the outcome would have been very different."
Gu Ningyue didn't say anything, but her hand gestures flowed smoothly as she began to form hand seals.
Two metal dog chains appeared, jingling, and were placed around their necks.
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