Xia Wan'an took two swift steps forward, and when she reached Han Jingnian, she noticed two cuts on his left arm—one so deep that it was still oozing blood—and in his right hand, he tightly gripped a fruit knife...
Xia Wan'an's heart felt as if it had been stabbed, turning her pale. She stared at the scene, her mouth opening slightly, then wider, until her eyes reddened, but she couldn't manage to call out "Han Jingnian."
She pursed her lips, holding back the acidity in her throat, and slowly squatted beside Han Jingnian, cautiously reaching out to touch his left arm to check the wound.
But before her fingertips could touch his clothes, Han Jingnian reflexively jerked backward, then raised the fruit knife in his right hand, thrusting it towards Xia Wan'an.
The cold glint of the blade flashed, pressing against Xia Wan'an's throat.
