Gong Shirao looked at Ou Yimo with a complex expression.
"I've prepared some exceptional men for you." Ou Yimo reached out and pinched Gong Shirao's chin, "I guess you're definitely feeling uncomfortable. Don't worry, I'll make you very satisfied."
She leaned in closer, whispering softly into Gong Shirao's ear:
"Letting you die directly is too uninteresting. How about I ruin your face first, then your body?"
"Think about it, if you've been with a lot of people, will Azhan still want you? Will he still think you're as pure as white paper?"
"Do you know, Gong Shirao, you're actually filthy—the dirtiest woman in the world."
Her fingers traced along Gong Shirao's face. Such a pretty face, how dare she be prettier than Ou Yimo!?
In the moonlight, this face was even more exquisite, if it weren't so pale and bloodless right now.
Gong Shirao's pupils contracted. Just as Ou Yimo's fingers were about to scratch her cheek, Gong Shirao suddenly lowered her head and bit her hand hard.
