Zhao Xiaoyue's words made Situ Cheng's teeth chatter. He was trying to figure out how to get away when Zhao Xiaoyue's lazy voice rang out again, "Alright, you've finished asking your questions. Now, it's my turn!"
Situ Cheng felt that the voice came from hell, eerie and terrifying, making him shiver. "You, what do you want to do?"
Yu Muqi turned the iron bed frame around so that it stood upright facing Zhao Xiaoyue. Zhang Xiaomeng took out more than a dozen steel knives, each ten centimeters long, randomly picked one out, and handed it to them to steer.
Zhao Xiaoyue took the knife and played with it in her hand. Yu Muqi was afraid that she would cut her little hand, as the knife was very sharp and had just been bought.
But the knife flew nimbly in Zhao Xiaoyue's hands, dazzling the onlookers. Suddenly, with a whoosh, the knife flew out.
With a "thud," it pierced the bed board, followed by a scream of agony.
Situ Cheng felt a sharp gust of wind brush past his ear and screamed in fright.
Zhao Xiaoyue curled her lips, "Don't call me that, I haven't even made a move yet, I'm just practicing."
ah!!!
Situ Cheng's eyes were covered, which amplified his despair and fear.
His body trembled, tears streaming uncontrollably down his cheeks. His lips quivered as he began to plead, "Please... let me go... sob sob sob..."
His voice was filled with endless pleading, as if he had lost all dignity and hope. Every word seemed to be squeezed out from the depths of his soul, carrying profound despair.
"Gulp!!"
Yu Muqi swallowed hard; the helmsman was a bit ruthless!
Zhao Xiaoyue took the knife Zhang Xiaomeng handed her and played with it as before.
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