As Yan Jiu was nodding to himself, convinced he had handled everything correctly and ready to make his exit, a sharp flash suddenly streaked across the room at lightning speed, grazing Li Beicheng's arm, the sound of high-grade fabric tearing distinct and clear.
In the blink of an eye, the chilling light had vanished, leaving a trail of bright red blood, freeze-framing on Qin Jingyi's twisted face as he gasped for air.
Darn it!
"Hisss…" Li Beicheng sucked in a breath of cold air as he clutched his arm, his handsome face fierce, and kicked out violently at Qin Jingyi, who played dirty when he couldn't win.
Luckily, Young Master Qin's notorious reputation had put him on high alert, or that knife aimed straight at his stomach would have seriously wounded or killed him in an instant.
