"You freak, nothing you do could ever surprise me," Jiang Xiaobai always had a biting tongue, showing no mercy even to the Death God.
The Death God wryly smiled and said, "If I had truly slept with her, I wouldn't complain about being locked up here. The real issue is, I didn't do anything—I was framed by my uncle and that wretched woman. In truth, it is they who are the vile couple."
Agony etched the Death God's face; he appeared to be over thirty, having been imprisoned here since he was eighteen, never seeing the light of day, which left his skin an unhealthy shade of white—so pale that even the pores were visible.
"What about the half of your face? Why do you cover it with a mask?" Jiang Xiaobai asked.
The Death God slowly removed the silver mask covering half of his face, revealing the disfigured half underneath. It was a shocking sight, the contrast between the two halves stark, causing Jiang Xiaobai's scalp to tingle at first glance.
"Did your uncle do this too?"
