Jiang Yi didn't know where the strength came from, but she pushed past Ji Meishu standing in front of her and dashed outside.
As she ran, she kept looking back, and the scene in the room nearly made her scream in terror.
The snow-white, sharp knife in Ji Meishu's hand was flailing wildly, striking her father, Hu Zhonglian, with every blow.
As Jiang Yi screamed, a warm, large hand happened to land on her forehead.
In her blurry vision, she saw a figure sitting by her bed, with their hand paused in mid-air.
Gu Xici had been coming home more frequently lately. Out of the seven days in a week, he would spend three or four evenings having dinner with Jiang Yi.
Today was Monday, and he had left early in the morning. He unexpectedly attended a party in the evening and didn't step through the door until two in the deep of the night.
He lingered outside Jiang Yi's door for a while, only to hear muffled sobs coming from inside.
