Her bite on the driver's palm loosened slightly from her wavering consciousness. However, she held on stubbornly with her last shred of persistence.
The pain on his hand inflamed the driver. He twisted Song Qingchun's hair and slammed her head once one time on the side of the car. Then, he proceeded to grind her face on it.
The second hit knocked the wind out of Song Qingchun. Her vision started to fail, and she felt something wet coming out of her nose. It flowed into her lips; it tasted like iron.
Perhaps it was due to the pain, Song Qingchun didn't release her jaw and sunk her teeth even deeper into the driver's flesh.
