Qian Huan's forehead veins bulged like writhing worms, sinister; the dire situation escalated ten times faster than he had anticipated.
If in the morning he was still merely standing on the cliff's edge, then now, this post crazily reposted by ignorant citizens was like a black hand, pushing him ruthlessly from behind, plunging him deep into the abyss, with half his body already hanging precariously over the edge.
"[Graveyard Tree] is trying to kill me, I've remembered this name, Feng Mu, I want him dead, he has to die ahhhhh——"
Through three layers of explosion-proof glass walls, Feng Mu could still sense the murderous intent inside, as if wanting to dig someone's grave and plant a tree.
Qian Huan's hands clenched tightly into fists, his nails deeply embedded in his palms, yet he seemed unable to feel the pain.
