"What's Xiao Chen's phone number? What's Xiao Chen's phone number?"
An Ziqi trembled as she continuously asked herself, frantically tugging at her hair, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't remember.
Zero and One stood to the side, watching An Ziqi in this state, feeling deeply distressed.
Accepting death and witnessing someone die for you are two entirely different concepts.
People are like this: they might come to terms with their own death, but if they see someone sacrifice themselves to save them, the impact is something most cannot handle—it might leave a lasting psychological shadow for their entire life.
Even watching her like this was agonizing for them. If Moli saw her later, he'd probably be heartbroken to death.
"Young Madam, the ground is cold; you should get up first."
But An Ziqi just stared ahead blankly at Mu Qing in front of her. The hand gripping her wrist hadn't loosened its hold, but the warmth on it was fading bit by bit, gradually turning cold.
