Ye Qingying stood by the bed, holding a long sword and staring at the unconscious Fu Ning.
Her face was purplish, deeply poisoned, and she looked as if she were on her last breath.
With one thrust, he could finish her off completely.
The Fu Ning of the moment had no ability to fight back.
He raised his sword.
Just one thrust.
Yet, at the moment he was about to strike, a pair of eyes suddenly flashed through his mind.
Xiaoyao's eyes.
Those eyes, often brimming with laughter, shiny and bright, were incredibly endearing.
Tonight, she had smiled at him, saying that once Fu Ning was better, she would leave with him.
She trusted him so completely, never hiding the fact that she had saved Fu Ning.
And here he was, seizing the moment while she was away to kill the person she had tried so hard to save.
He could even imagine how devastated his little girl would be when she returned to find Fu Ning lifeless.
She would be sad, she would cry, she would be at a loss!
