Chen Min suddenly summoned brute strength, yanking at her legs, dragging her down.
Qiao An's body staggered, her eyes darkened, and a cold curve formed at her lips.
Seeking death!
Smash—
The vase she threw casually hit the ground and shattered into pieces.
Big and small fragments scattered all around.
Qiao An kicked Chen Min away, who, caught off guard, rolled over and landed on the broken pieces.
Sharp shards pierced into her flesh.
She screamed in agony—
"Ah—"
Qiao An's face was chillingly cold, resembling a dark messenger who had crawled out of hell, as she crouched down slowly, her beautiful face wore a mocking smile, "If I hear another curse from you, how should I punish you, hm?"
Qiao An grabbed one of her hands, pressing it onto the sharp fragments.
"Ah..." Chen Min's face twisted in pain, her forehead covered in cold sweat.
She struggled and writhed madly, the more she moved, the deeper the shards stabbed.
Trickles of blood flowed from her body, from her hands.
