375, The breath of death, so intimate

The four-fingered man squinted his eyes coldly, abruptly seized the back of Song Qinghuan's collar and fiercely slammed her forward!

"Ahhhh!" With a shriek, Song Qinghuan's head violently collided with something in front. Blood flowed freely.

The four-fingered man coldly gripped her, forcing her back into the seat. "Stupid woman, are you behaving now? Do you still think of escaping if I don't get tough? Do you think I won't shoot?"

He cursed coldly, thrusting the gun ruthlessly against Song Qinghuan's head.

Song Qinghuan felt dizzy and disoriented, utterly humiliated, her entire body trembling, her small face turned so pale that she couldn't even utter a sound.

She shut her eyes, shrinking into the seat, her heart filled with terror. Her small, bright red mouth was bitten until it nearly bled. Her forehead was all bloody from the crash; blood and tears smeared her face.