Sang Ning was utterly convinced this time—the driver was certainly, absolutely, undeniably an ally.
Otherwise, how could he have known the police would be arriving soon?
Qingyue clenched his fists to fight back, but Sang Ning swiftly raised her leg high and drove her knee hard into his stomach.
The force of the knee strike sent his guts churning. Qingyue endured the pain and discomfort with difficulty, gritting out, "My backer is Duan Wenhu..."
Sang Ning grabbed Qingyue by the hair and slammed her forehead against his in a brutal iron head skill. She sneered coldly, "The last person who talked to me like this ended up my grandson after I beat him to a pulp."
She was referring to Lu Ye—he had used the same type of threat against her before.
Being the grandson or making someone else your grandson? She always chose the latter.
Qingyue's arms went limp, his body crumbling as he tried to reason, "Sang Ning... violence won't solve anything..."
