Xiaoling was defeated. In every argument she posed, Weisheng seemed to have a counterargument. She frowned as she looked up at his rigid posture. The rusty blade she entrusted him with was now held to his neck fearlessly.
Xiaoling didn't believe he would hurt himself just to win an argument, so she frowned and looked away.
"You think I don't dare?" Weisheng asked in a grim voice, making her return her gaze toward him.
The blade slowly pierced his skin as he mindlessly stared into her eyes. Drops of blood emerged from the incision, slowly dripping down his neck.
Panicked, Xiaoling's hands instantly grabbed onto his wrist, "Stop it!" She desperately begged.
Weisheng exhaled sharply, "What?" He asked while the blade remained still, "Are you worried about me? I thought you and I were no longer related."
Xiaoling couldn't diminish her frown, "Stop playing games with me…" She uttered in a whisper.
