Xu Shanshan turned her head to the side, her left forehead deeply flushed, her face marked with bright red fingerprints. It was dreadfully severe, but Xu Shanshan's gaze remained resolute, unwavering as she stared down Song Ziqiao and said with deliberate emphasis, "You... are... dead... meat!"
Song Ziqiao, who had been about to raise his hand again, suddenly felt a chill run through him; Shanshan's gaze seemed to freeze his hand in mid-air.
"Young Master Song, perhaps... we should let this go?" Fang Yeyu whispered to Song Ziqiao.
"Let it go? Impossible. That bastard ruined my future. You think I'll just let this slide? No way," Song Ziqiao shouted hysterically, "Hold that woman down for me—I'm going to rape her."
