Ya Quan's upper body was leaning toward Ye Shayan, who was tied to the middle of the bed. He was holding a bloody fruit knife in his right hand. His glasses and face were splashed with a few drops of blood.
This scene added a bloodthirsty aura to Quan's innocent baby face.
When the blood splashed onto Ya Quan's glasses, he subconsciously closed his eyes and blinked.
When Ya Quan opened his eyes and saw that half of his vision was dyed red, his brows furrowed slightly.
Dirty.
His glasses were dirty.
This information rushed into his mind and made Ya Quan frown. He turned the fruit knife in his hand and attacked Ye Shayan again.
"Ah!"
Ye Shayan screamed again. Her frightened eyes were filled with despair.
In an instant, the 15-centimeter fruit knife had been stabbed into Ye Shayan's collarbone.
Ya Quan's hand that was holding the handle of the fruit knife slowly withdrew. This time, he did not pull out the fruit knife.
