Xiang Yiran's chest heaved, her yet undried hair dripping water, unable to suppress the anger in her heart any longer.
"Bao Yanzhen, do you really want his life? He's already—"
"Already what? Already about to die of illness? Haha—"
The man laughed almost hysterically, mocking, "Xiang Yiran, if you hadn't confidently believed back then that Wen Wanzi would die of leukemia alone, you probably wouldn't have ended up like this now."
Xiang Yiran closed her eyes, her body stiff from the humiliation, yet unable to refute.
The humiliating memories from the past resurfaced once again.
If only she could have watched Wen Wanzi die with her own eyes, how great that would have been!
Xiang Yiran hardened her heart, her lips trembling slightly: "You're right, I almost took her life. But what's the point of saying this now?"
Bao Yanzhen snorted coldly, changing his clothes and preparing to leave.