Xia Ningxing also heard the news and rushed out to see Jiang Rou's tragic state, which made her frown involuntarily.
She didn't sympathize, but she wasn't pleased either.
Respect for the dead was paramount, and she wouldn't quibble with the deceased anymore. However, she always felt something wasn't quite right, a chilling sensation on her back, as if something was following her.
Xia Ningxing couldn't help but turn her head, but saw nothing.
Could it be an illusion?
It wasn't an illusion, actually. At that moment, Jiang Rou's spirit was right behind her.
She glared at her own body beneath the car, then at the innocent-faced Xia Ningxing, her expression contorting into a hideous sneer as she raised her hand to strangle Ningxing's throat.
Die!
Xia Ningxing, you go die!
She, Jiang Rou, would never forgive that bitch, not even in death!
But before she could reach Xia Ningxing's neck, she was slapped by a strange force, causing Jiang Rou to grimace in pain and gasp for breath.