"What? The dog was already dead before?"
Xu Ruoying carefully stared at the dog on the ground. It was now nighttime, and aside from the headlights of the sedan, there was only the dim light of a distant street lamp.
It was indeed hard to see clearly.
"You're talking nonsense with your eyes wide open! If it died before, then what's this blood on my hands all about?"
The young man holding the dagger stretched out his blood-covered hands.
"Let me tell you what this blood is all about."
Feng Lin's figure abruptly moved forward and pulled a bottle from the crew-cut middle-aged man's pocket.
He opened the cap and dripped the red liquid onto the ground, where it fell clearly visible.
"This should be chicken blood."
Feng Lin sniffed the mouth of the bottle and threw it under the highway.
Xu Ruoying also understood; it turns out they were conspiring to hoodwink people.
Indeed, these people had stopped scamming with porcelain and had begun upgrading their tricks.
