Lin Yue's anger, which had already subsided, flared up again at Lin Yao's shout from behind. Just as she was about to shake off Zhuo Xiangqiao's persistent grip and rush forward to give Lin Yao a couple of slaps, her hand was tightly held by Zhuo Xiangqiao.
Zhuo Xiangqiao clutched Lin Yue's hand, preventing her from charging out, but his other, free hand suddenly tensed up. The look in his eyes, as he glared at Lin Yao, was filled with murderous intent. At that moment, he wished he could stride forward and snap her neck—and that's exactly what he did.
Lin Yao, who had been smugly laughing and mocking Zhuo Xiangqiao's pitiful state in her heart, suddenly found her laughter cut short. Zhuo Xiangqiao was throttling her neck furiously. A stifling sensation overcame Lin Yao, with blood pooling in her head. Her face turned an alarming shade of red. She felt Zhuo Xiangqiao's grip tightening bit by bit, fresh air being squeezed out of her body with his every tightening grip.
