He didn't care at all about the look of disgust on her face.
Turning away, I soon saw Jiang Jiayao appear next door through the one-way mirror.
His lips moved, and then the man next to him picked up a basin of cold water and splashed it on her face.
A sudden, intense feeling of suffocation made her tense up and try to sit up, but because her hands and feet were tied, her half-finished struggle was forced back onto the bed.
She was breathing heavily, watching the man in front of her get closer and closer.
Song Xingyao saw him deliberately get close to the girl's already smooth hair, rubbing the long hair back and forth between his fingers, and then taking a deep breath as if enjoying it.
Like a well-groomed dog pretending not to care about the fragrant meat bone in front of it, it's a disgusting hypocrisy.
He casually stuffed a wad of cotton or gauze into her mouth, not wanting to hear her make those horrifying cries for help.
Jiang Jiayao casually picked up a syringe from the side, and someone immediately handed him an ampoule that had already been opened.
As the sharp, gleaming needle drew closer and closer to him, An Ye struggled even harder.
Jiang Jiayao glanced in Song Xingyao's direction, seemingly to confirm that she was looking.
Only then did he insert the cold needle into her body.
Song Xingyao sat helplessly on the sofa, preparing to step forward and smash the glass, but was grabbed and thrown backward by the person left to guard her.
After pulling out the syringe, I noticed that Jiang Jiayao's expression had changed because of what the people around him were saying.
He then tossed the things aside and walked out.
Jiang Jiayao stepped out of the room and whispered a few instructions to the person next to him.
He went upstairs by himself.
Fu Siming was led to sit in the center of the living room, and a servant brought him a cup of tea.
If it weren't for his almost completely dark expression, some people might have actually thought he was there to discuss business.
"Where is he?" Fu Siming's icy voice sounded somewhat eerie.
But Jiang Jiayao, sitting opposite him, spread his arms and leaned back in his chair at his words. "President Fu, you see, if we had cooperated earlier, we should be at the dinner table together now, or at my succession ceremony. But now, how embarrassing is this situation?"
"I'm asking you, where are they?"
"Madam is currently a guest at my humble abode, and someone is taking care of her. Where are my things?"
The USB drive, which had been hanging from his fingertip, was carelessly tossed onto the table with a click.
He clapped his hands. Song Xingyao was carried up and fixed to a soft stool, her hands and feet tied to the armrests and legs of the chair.
His mouth was covered with a strip of cloth.
Fu Siming saw tears welling up in her eyes, and she was shaking her head back and forth.
"I must say, Mr. Fu's wife is just as capable as you. Why does she insist on going against me?"
He slowly approached Song Xingyao, making a gun gesture with his fingers, and rested them against the back of her head.
"Mrs. Fu's price is obviously higher."
After she finished speaking, Song Xingyao saw through her blurry vision that Fu Siming took out a stack of thickly sealed envelopes and threw them onto the wooden table with a loud thud.
Jiang Jiayao was very impressed. He casually tore off a few sheets and pulled them out. Instead of demonstrating them, he looked at the man in front of him with an appreciative gaze.
Then he put away everything he had in his hands.
Fu Siming kept an eye on Song Xingyao's situation and, seeing that he had no intention of letting her go, sat down opposite Jiang Jiayao.
"Do you feel like something's missing?"
Jiang Jiayao was stunned, but when he heard Fu Siming casually utter three words, he panicked completely, "An Qiming."
"What did you say?!" A crack appeared on Jiang Jiayao's face for a second, then he forced himself to sit up straight, pretending to be calm. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Looking at the smile on Fu Siming's face, he felt a chill run down his spine. How could this be?
"Twenty years ago, the location was clearly set, so why did it suddenly become you? Why did An Qiming commit suicide by jumping into the sea after being framed? I guess you know these things better than I do, so I don't need to gather the evidence for you. Right?"
In an instant, the tilted scales tipped to the other side.
Fu Siming's mocking smile angered Jiang Jiayao in front of him.
He stood up and yelled at the motionless man opposite him, "Bullshit! Who does An Qiming think he is? What right does someone from his background have to look down on me? And he even pretends to be kind and comfort me. Bah!"
His anger caused him to lose his self-control, rationality, and dignity, and all sorts of vulgar and vicious curses came out of his mouth.
"But if it were him, he probably wouldn't be in this position by now. Do you still think you didn't get re-election because of me?"
Fu Siming's next words truly stung him: "You're already a discarded pawn, don't you know that?"
"Impossible! Abandon me! Hahahaha, impossible!" He muttered this phrase repeatedly, then looked at him with a sinister gaze: "An Qiming is dead, they can only praise me. Even if I'm not in Jiangcheng, I can't step down!!"
After Song Xingyao saw him shout, she pulled out a pistol from under her clothes and pointed it at Fu Siming's head.
Her heart tightened at the sight. Before she could finish loading the gun, Fu Siming swiftly pinned her to the ground and knocked the gun out of her hand.
Just as I was finally able to relax, a sharp pain shot through my neck.
Song Xingyao slowly closed her eyes and lightly touched her lips.
With a thud beside her ear, she saw Fu Siming running towards her.
The sound of sirens from the door and the influx of people instantly filled the entire living room, turning the once spacious area into a gathering of armed special police.
Song Xingyao was held in Fu Siming's arms.
"Song Xingyao, wake up! Wake up!! I promised to pick you up and take you home. I wasn't late this time."
Pei Jing stepped forward and called out, "Master Fu, Madam!"
Fu Siming's eyes were bloodshot, filled with not only terrifying hatred but also countless fears.
The medical staff standing by dared not approach.
It wasn't until someone nearby spoke up to remind him, "Mr. Fu, the doctor has arrived. Let the doctor check on Madam's condition first."
The doctor shone a flashlight on the injection site, his expression changed slightly, and he picked up the injection from the ground and put it into the box.
"Let's take Madam to the hospital first."
His eyes, filled with a bloodthirsty glint, placed Song Xingyao on the emergency bed that had been pushed in.
In front of everyone, he stepped on the person he had just kicked away.
Fu Siming ignored the painful screams of the person who had already fainted.
He walked towards Jiang Jiayao and saw that he still had a smile on his face. Fu Siming stepped on his face with his leather shoes.
Jiang Jiayao's face was immediately smeared with the blood from Fu Siming's shoe sole, making him look somewhat disheveled.
The expression on his face finally disappeared at this moment, and his lips parted slightly. "I originally wanted to give you a bullet to clean up the world's garbage, but that would be too cheap for you."
His sinister eyes were tinged with a faint bloodlust; the humiliation of being trampled underfoot was nothing compared to the fear instilled by Fu Siming.
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