The night before Jia Li's death.
Jia Li was in a mess. Her clothes were ripped and crumpled, the previous neat and seductive look she was proud of flaunting to seduce men was no longer. With all the bruises on her knees from kneeling for hours and the scratches that were starting to bleed from the tight ropes wrapping around her wrists and ankles, nobody would ever associate her with the actress Jia Li.
Yan Zhuhui wouldn't kill her. His love for her will be the only burden and strongest chain that will restrain himself from doing it. That was enough for Jia Li to slow down her fast heartbeat.
But where was he? It has been three hours since he left yet he hasn't come down to see her.
Ah, he must be licking all the wounds she caused to his heart like a wounded cat. Then, after he's done, he'll come back purring and begging her for pets.
