Having prepared her things, Chiang Qing dragged Mother Qi up to the next floor. It was an unfinished building, just a three-story framework, and the roof, naturally, was the rooftop.
Mother Qi's whole body was limp and powerless, her small frame being dragged by Chiang Qing like a rag, wanting to beg, wanting to call for help, but her mouth was dry as bone, with no moisture to speak of.
She couldn't utter a single word, even wanting to cry, but she couldn't shed a tear!
Chiang Qing dragged Mother Qi onto the rooftop, all the way to a spot not far from the edge, and threw her to the ground.
Mother Qi's hair was disheveled, her face swollen and dry, her mouth corners cracked; in less than a day, her hair had turned completely white, her appearance withered, she looked like she had aged more than ten years, truly pitiful.
