Even in the darkest of nights, Shen Jiao could still picture the tyrant's gloomy face in her mind.
She shrank her neck, then looked up. "Look, look, what do you want to see?"
Ji Yan: "Look at you getting all worked up."
Shen Jiao: "..."
Me, a stunningly beautiful woman, and you're telling me to get angry?
I'll blow your grandpa's spiral leg hair off!
Shen Jiaoqi's temples throbbed with anger. She took a few deep breaths and continued to keep her head down.
She secretly vowed that even if the tyrant's face turned as black as the bottom of a pot that had been burning for decades, she would never raise her head again!
Suddenly I felt a slight coolness on my cheek, and I could guess whose finger it was just by looking at my toes.
Ji Yan exerted a little force and saw the angry, bristling hamster again.
Shen Jiao: "..."
Being forced to look up has nothing to do with the oath I made, nor with me personally.
Shen Jiao was a little tired. Her nerves, which had been tense for a long time, relaxed after finding enough security, and she was very exhausted. She did not intend to be a stubborn bronze-level character anymore and let the tyrant do as he pleased.
Unexpectedly, Ji Yan stopped teasing her. Her fingertips continued to trace patterns on her face, leaving a cool sensation followed by a burning pain.
Shen Jiao was in so much pain that she was convulsing.
She then realized that not only her legs, knees, and buttocks were covered in bruises, but even her face was covered in them.
Ji Yan looked at her.
His pale face was covered with scratches of all sizes, some with beads of blood seeping out, others with scabs forming. His hair was a mess even without him doing anything, and his clear, half-drooping eyes made him look extremely pitiful.
"Why do you feel so wronged?"
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