The palm print on Lu Xiaoyou's face was from Hou Muyan, and the bloodstain on her shoulder was from when she hit Hou Muyan with a wine bottle, wounded by the splattered fragments.
She couldn't hit Hou Muyan now, but the dogs of the Hou Family were still around.
Lu Xiaoyou looked straight at the person outside the elevator, "They hit me."
These people had indeed hit her, but they had not injured her.
If Long Xiliang had come a moment later, Lu Xiaoyou couldn't guarantee that she would remain unscathed in front of dozens of gun barrels.
Long Xiliang took out his service pistol, a handgun shimmering with the luster of obsidian decorated with a dragon totem.
He handed the service pistol to Lu Xiaoyou, as if giving her a toy.
Lu Xiaoyou took the gun, leaned on Long Xiliang's lap, raised her hand, and pointed the muzzle at Uncle He outside the elevator.
