"You dare insult my father? I'm going to tear you to pieces, you little brat!"
"I... I didn't mean to..."
Song Lianhe ran through streets and alleys, her small frame casting a long shadow in the last rays of the setting sun, looking as pathetic as a drenched dog.
E Jintang was hot on her heels, his running shaking the very ground. He'd grabbed a random stick, and whenever he got close, he would swing it at her. Terrified, Song Lianhe could only run for her life to avoid the blow.
'She usually spent her days either lying down or sitting and went out only by carriage. How could her stamina possibly compare to the fiercest general in all of Da Cheng!'
"Die!"
Just as E Jintang's stick came crashing down on her head again, Song Lianhe's pretty eyes narrowed. She spun around and threw a handful of powder—
Seeing the black-clad figure that had suddenly appeared in front of her, she froze.
