["Oh, host, what are you doing?"]
"It's late at night, give him a quick end."
Dumpling watched in disbelief as the woman's palm turned, scattering something onto the person in front of her.
In an instant, the air filled with a fragrant aroma.
Anger powder.
She forgot which realm an old mischief-maker had developed it, but the host had collected quite a bit.
It could release the thoughts buried deep within one's heart.
The next second.
Ji Ze's eyes erupted with fire, wishing nothing more than to tear the woman before him to pieces.
His head boiling with heat, he suddenly stood up, his hands lunging for the other's fair neck: "Die!"
Yan Yu's pupils contracted, not caring for anything else, and he kicked hard at the young man's waist.
Caught off guard by the sudden pain, Ji Ze, who seemed bewitched, instantly came to his senses, sweating profusely.
No, what had he just done?
