Suddenly remembering something, black teardrops suddenly fell from the corners of the girl's eyes, a worry born of instinct, "Where's Luo Liu?"
Qiao Chengxun remained silent.
Wen Meimei felt uneasy and urged, "Where's Luo Liu? Why aren't you speaking?"
"He's gone." Qiao Chengxun intentionally spoke cryptically.
Wen Meimei's eyes widened suddenly, instinctively tightening her grip on his hand, wanting to sit up, "Where did he go? I want to find him, he's hurt, lost a lot of blood, and is in pain."
"Meimei." Qiao Chengxun pulled her tightly into his embrace, letting her listen to the sound of his heartbeat.
Wen Meimei sat in a daze, seeing nothing, her heart severely stirred by sorrow and anguish, overwhelmed by grief.
If Qiao, the King of Hell, remains silent, it means some things have already become facts.
"Did Luo Liu... die?"
Qiao Chengxun slowly lowered his head, planting a kiss on her little bald head.
