In Ji Wanzhou's world, Meng Qingge had already died once, even though it was only for a few hours.
But those few hours were the second thing in his life that hurt so much he couldn't breathe.
The first thing he did was hug his mother's corpse and cry his heart out.
"Afraid?" Ji Wanzhou looked at Meng Qingge and asked even though he already knew the answer.
"How can I not be afraid!" Meng Qingge glanced at Ji Wanzhou, "You know someone is trying to kill you, how can you not be afraid? If you knew that someone had killed you, would you not be afraid? "
Hearing Meng Qingge return the question to him, Ji Wanzhou smirked, "Do you think that after all these years, no one wants to kill me?"
The moment he finished, Ji Wanzhou grabbed Meng Qingge's hand and put it on his palm.
On the palm of his right hand, where the lines spread out, there was a scar that bulged slightly.