Zhao Qi, seeing the situation, showed delight in her clouded eyes. Her withered body became plump at a visible speed, quickly returning to its beautiful and sexy state.
"Sigh..." Fan Wubing sighed.
Even so, Zhao Qi was still filled with affection, without any hatred. "Don't worry, sister will be gentle." To her, as long as she could stagger forward with someone else, any grievances were insignificant.
Fan Wubing looked at her, "Pitiful."
An empty shell without a soul, a puppet enslaved.
Fan Wubing no longer hated her.
At this moment, to him, the enemy was no longer Zhao Qi, but Zhang Yi.
He turned to Zhang Yi, "Think carefully about whether what you're doing is truly worth it."
Zhang Yi looked into his eyes.
In those eyes, there was indifference, unkemptness, and a kind of unique temperament never seen before.
Yes!
That feeling! That mysterious ailment... was now reflected in this young boy's eyes!
