As soon as she saw Ye Che, she threw herself into his arms, tears streaming down her face: "Ye Che, Xixi is missing, I've lost Xixi! What do I do?"
"It's all my fault, this is all my fault. If I hadn't run the red light on the way, I wouldn't have wasted so much time. If I had arrived twenty minutes earlier, none of this would have happened to Xixi. Wuwuwu~~"
Xia Weiyi cried her heart out, her grief tearing at her soul. The thought of little Xixi, only three years old, timid by nature, tied up hand and foot by a group of men and thrown into an old warehouse without food or water, with a fruit knife pressed to her tiny neck—it was an unbearable image.
Fear surged uncontrollably within Xia Weiyi. Her whole body began to tremble, her pale face void of any color, ghostly white.
