"Xixi, don't get worked up, okay?"
His voice was soft and soothing, but Chi Jingxuan's eyes narrowed sharply.
Not far away, behind a headstone, Hu Jiahao moved like a monkey, nimbly weaving between the smaller graves, step by step, inching closer to Qin Yuji.
A flicker of hope ignited in his heart. Chi Jingxuan slowly lowered his raised hand.
If Hu Jiahao could wrest the gun from Lin Xixi's hands, Chi Jingxuan was certain that with just one shot, he could kill Lin Xixi—this time, he wouldn't show any mercy.
Yet unlike the last time when she had been coerced by Shen Qingkong, this time Lin Xixi seemed resolute. Even if she fell into Chi Jingxuan's grasp, she believed nothing would happen to her. She came alone, with no backup, just arrogance and a single pistol.
Seeing that Chi Jingxuan dared not take another step, Lin Xixi smiled smugly, looking straight at him as she asked, "Chi Jingxuan, if Qin Yuji hadn't appeared, would you have married me?"
