Yun Shu rolled to the ground and climbed up, her hair bun undone, her hair disheveled, her face pale as death, looking extremely terrifying.
She curled her lip, smiling grimly, "Ji Yunya, it seems I've underestimated you. You're ruthless, falling to your own granddaughter's hand—it's no loss to me."
Yun Ya gazed on, a touch of desolation tinting the depths of her heart.
Family members fighting to the death, an endless struggle—it truly could be called a human tragedy.
But what could be done? If she didn't kill her, she would have been the one killed. From the moment of her birth, her fate was sealed.
The faint pity and sorrow were gradually replaced by a hazy smile, no longer discernible in her eyes.
"If you hadn't touched Miaomiao, I might have tolerated you a bit longer, let you witness another great show. What a pity, you just had to cross the line with Miaomiao. How could I let you live in peace?"