By the roadside.
Yang Qian lit a cigarette, as Fan Hanhan stood by his side. The woman with shoulder-length golden hair had slightly parted lips, revealing a fearful expression.
"I say, isn't this a bit too ruthless? Letting a dog bite someone—this slow death is going to be very painful, isn't it?" Fan Hanhan said, her tone having a tinge of pity.
Yang Qian indifferently replied: "I don't care how much suffering they endure. All I know is, as long as they die and I leave no trace, that's enough."
Fan Hanhan: "True, and I get 30% of the money without even lifting a finger. What luck. Thank you, Second Brother."
Yang Qian: "The funds you've been siphoning from selling secret formulas are substantial, aren't they?"
