Qiu Weiren: "..."
Qiu Weiren's face turned pale from the pain.
Standing aside, Yu Jinxiu also instinctively covered his neck, feeling a chill at the nape.
Ruan Qi pinched Qiu Weiren's chin, gently lifting his face, and asked again with a smile: "Assistant Qiu, how much do you know about the events back then?"
Qiu Weiren's pupils flickered as he prepared to stubbornly hold out, but a sharp pain pierced through his pinched chin.
Cold sweat instantly beaded on his forehead.
"You, you..." Qiu Weiren's face was ashen as he struggled to speak, "Who... are you?"
Ruan Qi pinched his chin with a sugary sweet voice.
"It doesn't matter who I am. Instead of being so concerned about my identity, Assistant Qiu, perhaps you should first worry about whether you'll live to see tomorrow."
The young girl spoke, and suddenly a long, thin silver needle appeared between the fingers of her right hand.
