Qian Yikun paused. "Isn't he your godfather?"
"That's what I'm saying. A woman like me can even kill her father. Why would I be afraid of killing an outsider?" Mo Fei teased in a self-deprecating manner.
Qian Yikun's expression changed slightly as he added in a low voice, "I'm serious. This matter is very important."
"He's really dead." Mo Fei leaned against the bed frame. A dimness enshrouded her eyes. It felt like she could only confirm that she was still a living person every time this happened.
It was because those memories could tear her apart.
When Qian Yikun saw Mo Fei's slight change in her expression and the self-mockery on her face, he felt as if someone had ruthlessly snatched the deepest part of his heart. His heart ached.
"Why do you ask?" Mo Fei recollected her thoughts and her muddled gaze shifted to land on Qian Yikun instead.
