Qiao Zhiyi appeared before Shi Jingzhou in a very shameful way, looking at the man sitting opposite her, whose ugly face bore no expression, his pitch-black, profound eyes were dangerous.
In his eyes, she was prey that had been caught; he wasn't afraid of her running away because he could devour her whenever he wished.
Qiao Zhiyi's tears circled in her eyes as fear tightly enveloped her, making her feel that she would die by Shi Jingzhou's hand in the next second.
It was her fault.
She had underestimated him.
From their first encounter, she had witnessed his maliciousness. How could she forget that he was a ruthless man just because he had helped her?
"Shi Jingzhou, let me go!" Qiao Zhiyi's voice was hoarse, "What does this count for? Are you only capable of threatening a woman who can't even truss a chicken with this skill?"
She cried.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, making her look very pitiful.
She struggled, her wrists turning red from the constriction.