Qiao Ran's warm breath caressed Xu Xueman's ear, making her feel as if her body were being fried and tossed in a boiling pot of oil, the pain so sharp and clear it tore at her heart and lungs, yet she couldn't stop breathing.
"It wasn't me, it wasn't me. I didn't harm my children, I love them so much, how could I possibly kill them?" Xu Xueman's eyes were wide with terror, her body shook uncontrollably, and from her lips emerged anguished groans and shouts.
Qiao Ran let go of Xu Xueman's hand, and she immediately scurried to the corner like a nimble monkey, hugging her head and repeatedly banging it against the wall. Her eyes were dull, empty, and expressionlessly she murmured to herself.
"I didn't harm my children, I didn't, I didn't..."
Such helpless, near-breaking Xu Xueman would tug at anyone's heartstrings, making them reluctant to provoke her further.
But Qiao Ran felt not a shred of sympathy for her.