I never expected Zhao Mengxi to be so severely injured that she could appear here within just a few days?
Her face was terribly pale, looking every bit the picture of illness.
I quickly dodged backward, and Zhao Mengxi lunged at empty air, her anger intensifying by the second. Without a second thought, she grabbed a fruit knife from the coffee table and attempted to stab me with it.
My heart tightened, and I instinctively looked towards Cheng Yu, who was standing to the side.
He looked on with a detached expression, not surprised in the least. In fact, he seemed to be watching with a sort of twisted interest.
Thinking back on Cheng Yu's impatient but unlustful eyes from just moments before, I suddenly understood.
Cheng Yu must have seen Zhao Mengxi standing on the second floor earlier on; everything that had happened was a show for her benefit.
To be used like this filled me with an indignant rage, stuck in my chest.
