Han Che shrugged off his suit jacket and tossed it over Zhou Zining.
"Miss Zhou, I'll take you to the hospital."
Zhou Zining glared at him, wishing she could hack him to pieces.
She enunciated each word deliberately, as if they were forced out through blood-soaked water, "My phone, give it back to me."
Han Che laughed, "I can't give it to you for now. You're emotionally unstable and you're injured. Getting to the hospital is what's important."
"Give me my phone!"
Han Che pretended not to see her fierce expression and smiled even more politely, "I really can't give it to you. What if you call the Fourth Young Master? I'm afraid he'd go soft."
Zhou Zining abruptly froze.
A surge of hatred and fear clashed within her, her eyes, which had wept blood and dried, started to brim with tears again.
No more words were spoken.
That night.
On the rooftop of the hospital, a shadowy figure flickered into view.
