Ye Jiuliang arched an eyebrow, not in a hurry to speak. His fingertips glided across the phone screen, and then he dragged out the video and the bank's money transfer record.
The next second, the phone beside Mo Su chimed.
It was the notification sound of an incoming message.
Mengzhu glanced at the lit phone screen from the corner of her eye. She swallowed hard, her palms slick with nervous sweat.
Mo Su picked up the phone, clicked on the message from Ye Jiuliang, and scanned the content, feeling the last shred of hope in her heart shatter.
Her face darkened, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the phone.
Suddenly, she stood up and swung a backhanded slap across the face.
The movement was quick and fierce.
"Smack—"
The force was considerable; Mengzhu's ear rang with a buzzing sound, the left side of her cheek branded with a palm print, fingers distinct and threaded with blood.
Blood seeped from the corner of her mouth, but she didn't dare to wipe it away.
