Because of excitement, Ho Su Ning's voice changed its tune.

On Huo Beicheng's cold face there was only a mockery: "Oh, just a severe concussion?"

There was a wave of cold sweat rolling behind Huo Su's back. Why did he not think that he had done enough to kill Ziqian?

Huo Beichen took a deep breath of his cigar and surrounded Junxie's face with white fog: "Why did I hurt him? He didn't tell you?"

Hawthorne was a little less condensate, but still full of gas: "What happened that night, no one can tell, how do you know Ziqian... Is Ziqian not polite to that Suguan? Maybe Suguan has taken...