"Now that everything is settled, it's time to settle the accounts," Wuhen's slender, fair fingers gently slid over Liu Limin's swollen cheek, and all she felt was as if a cool, refreshing stream flowed across her face—cool and very comforting.
"Was it that beast who hit you?" Pointing at Meng Tong in the corner, Wuhen's eyes slightly lifted: "Which hand? Left or right? Or perhaps, both hands?"
His voice was light and airy, as if it couldn't touch anything, yet Meng Tong felt as if a heavy hammer struck his heart, making his whole body involuntarily shiver.
With her eyes coldly fixed on Meng Tong like a sword, Liu Limin sneered: "The right hand."
"Oh, the right hand." Wuhen smiled harmlessly, slowly approaching him while chuckling, "If that's the case, then there's no need for this hand anymore. Better to get rid of it to prevent future violence."
