"Get out." Yang Mufan was completely angry, his eyes instantly burned with two blazing flames that could not be extinguished, and he scolded the man without even raising his eyelids.
The tone was so harsh, so unpleasant, and so vicious, but the man seemed to have received an amnesty order, ignoring the pain in his body, and walked out of the room numbly.
The moment the door to the room was closed, Yang Mufan, who was wrapped in a frightening murderous aura, roughly pinched Mu Wanqing's eyes and roared angrily:
"Mu Wanqing, why are you so mean and shameless?!"
"You take off your clothes when I tell you to, and you lie down when I tell you to do so?! Is it because Wei Zhehan was put in prison by me and no man can satisfy you, so you feel uncomfortable?! Hmm?!"
"You shameless, dirty woman, you can't live without a man, right?! Since any man can kill you, what happened to Yang Muchen when he met you?!"
"If you don't let him touch you, do you think he is not as rich as Wei Zhehan?! Hmm?!"
"Mu Wanqing, let me tell you very clearly: when you and Wei Zhehan used such cruel methods to kill my only biological brother, I will definitely make you pay a price that is more painful than death."
I admire Fan’s words, every word is eerie and terrifying.
But her breath was suddenly cut off, and Mu Wanqing felt the fear of death wrapping her tightly around her in an instant.
She struggled to open her eyes, and Yang Mufan's face, which became more and more ferocious and twisted with anger, gradually came into view.
The naked and humiliating words stung Mu Wanqing's already scarred nerves.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but... in the end, not a word came out.
Because she has nothing to say.
In Yang Mufan's heart, she was never the most important one. The only thing he cared about forever was his half-brother - Yang Muchen.
The year we met: she was nine years old; he was thirteen years old.
At that time, autumn was very thick and deep, a season when all things were withering, but her world was sunny and sunny, and spring flowers were blooming.
He and his younger brother, Yang Muchen, lived with their adoptive mother in a very dilapidated demolished house not far from the school.
Every day after school, the first thing she did was run to his house and follow him around like a follower.
She would ask him many questions, but he would never answer her.
I only know how to help my foster mother with housework and tidy up the messy yard filled with garbage.
At that time, Yang Mufan was very young, but had many cracks on the back of his hands.
There are wounds that have been cracked by cold water and cold wind; there are wounds that have been punctured by debris and have scabbed.
She looked very distressed.
I used my own pocket money to buy him gloves and hand cream.
But he didn't appreciate it, threw it to the ground angrily, and then yelled with a distorted face: "Mu Wanqing, you are hanging around behind me all day long, what do you want to do?! Are you annoyed?! Don't follow me again, follow me again, believe it or not
I beat you?!"
At that time, his expression was very fierce and ferocious, and his brown pupils shone with a frightening red light.
Although she was scared, she did not run away.
She knelt down, picked up the gloves and hand cream, ignored his abuse and resistance, carefully touched the hand cream on the back of his hand, and then like a little adult, said solemnly: "Brother Mu Fan, your
The hands are so beautiful, the fingers are very long, and they can play the piano. It would be bad if such perfect hands were covered with calluses."
She applied it very carefully, applying it little by little.
That was the first time they held hands. His palm was rough, and his fingers were cold and lonely.
