She could clearly sense that Mo Tingchuan had no love for her whatsoever.
All he had was his resentment and his shattered self-esteem.
When He Yaonian came in, Mingdai had gradually regained consciousness.
She was curled up in the corner of the bed, her clothes disheveled, her whole body trembling uncontrollably.
Mo Tingchuan grabbed the shirt and put it on. He was calm and composed, slowly licking the blood that Ming Dai had drawn from the corner of his lips.
"Third Uncle came really fast."
Mo Tingchuan's shirt was wide open, and he looked at He Yaonian provocatively.
"My husband and I are just having some fun, isn't Uncle being a bit too nosy?"
He Yaonian didn't want to say anything.
He swung the steel pipe and started hitting Mo Tingchuan head-on.
Mo Tingchuan dodged left and right, and at first he was able to exchange a few blows with He Yaonian, but he quickly fell into a disadvantageous position.
He was no match for He Yaonian.
In the end, he could only cover his head and flee in a sorry state.
Mingdai watched helplessly as Mo Tingchuan's nose splattered blood and flew out; his arm was probably broken.
She wanted this person to die right in front of her right now.
But she couldn't.
"Third Uncle."
Mingdai, her body weak, got out of bed and went barefoot to pull He Yaonian.
"Even if he's beaten to death, he'll still go to jail."
Having reached this position, He Yaonian no longer shows his emotions outwardly.
But today, he showed no restraint in his brutality, unleashing it all on Mo Tingchuan.
He Yaonian delivered a final, powerful kick to Mo Tingchuan's stomach, sending him flying far away, the blood spurting from his mouth splattering onto the wall.
Mingdai didn't feel scared at all.
She watched coldly as Mo Tingchuan collapsed softly.
She watched silently as Mo Tingchuan remained motionless, like a dead pig.
Is he dead?
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